


A Study In Kindness

by shelikesmyspark



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beating, Bottom Louis, Cat Ears, Cat Louis, Cat/Human Hybrids, Comfort/Angst, Falling In Love, First Love, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Heavy Angst, Hybrid Louis, Hybrid Niall, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Innocent Niall, Insecure Louis, Liam Payne & Harry Styles Friendship, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson Wears Harry Styles's Clothes, M/M, Master/Pet, Mild Blood, Minor Niall Horan/Liam Payne, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, No Gore, Ownership, Protective Liam, Sad Louis, Soulmates Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Top Harry, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2020-10-11 16:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20549366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelikesmyspark/pseuds/shelikesmyspark
Summary: Their were thousands just like him, and he could be easily replaced. Easily dropped off ‘like the garbage you are’ in front of the crummy shelter he was bought from.Easily bought by someone much worse, much meaner, “you really think I’m that bad to you? Wait until someone else gets their hands on you”. He never knew kindness, but he’d only heard that he could have it worse, and he’d rather have this than something more. Sure, he was lucky, because just like the terrible man told him, “somebody else could bend you over a table and have you, even if you hate it, and I could but you’re just fucking lucky”. Patches of thinning fur on his tail wasn’t so bad, as long as it wasn’t worse. There would be nights when he’d be beaten to all hell, lips bleeding and ears ringing, wrists bruised and sore, his owner left only with scratches up his arms from Louis fighting him off. But it could be worse. That’s what he thought and that’s what he had to live by. Because if he didn’t, what else would he have?-Louis is a hybrid who doesn't know there's better to life. Harry doesn't know exactly how to help but he's trying.-





	1. A Lesson In Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING:  
Heavy mention of physical abuse, a bit medium in this chapter but it will be more in the second.  
Mention of alcohol abuse.
> 
> Also adding on that apparently my dad's application/company that he developed and now runs is the reason AO3 is running slowly lately. 50 Bookmarks and I'll tell him to speed shit up.
> 
> I haven't written anything in a VERY long time but I really hope this helps me to improve. So cut me some slack if I misstype or if my sentences are too long. But feel free to point out spelling mistakes, just please don't criticize my writing style at the moment.
> 
> EDIT 11/14: If you're wondering, I have in fact just noticed the big inconsistency of Louis reading 'candles' on the boxes in the first chapter and (without spoiling) the inconsistency with the story that implies later on. If it bothers you- sorry, I chalk it up to writer's brain, and I promise I'm figuring out a way to fix that plot point without altering a large chunk of the story that so many of you have already read!! Sorry about that! Don't worry about having to reread if you're already deep in, when I get around to fixing it I won't be changing more than maybe a paragraph or two so it's not really necessary to go back to catch up, it'll just make better sense for newcomers.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and don't forget to bookmark and kudo so you can keep caught up (and show me some love)!

He always found it easy to be alone. Easier than being around someone else. Louis could always find something fine to do when he was by himself, better than anything he’d have to do when with anyone. Watching TV was better alone, no one else chattering through a movie. Eating was better alone, getting to pick his own meal and make it himself. Even if it was just a microwaved can of soup, he picked it himself, and got to eat all of it quietly, or in front of the TV. Taking a shower, cleaning, going on a walk; all of it was better when he was alone and he wanted to always be that way. Away from everyone else, away from the one person who he always had to be around that seemed to never care for privacy or boundaries or kindness in general.

Many people in the world kept pets much like Louis. They came in all colors, from Louis’ light chestnut fur to the brightest of blondes and midnight blues. He was just a rather simple, cat, however. Nothing special to note in his heritage, no pure-bred lineage or unique characteristics. Just typical conical ears, peeking sharply up from the crests of his hair, and a featureless smooth tail trailing from the base of his spine. Nothing fancy, no striking yellow eyes or sharp nails- besides his ears and tail, he was no more special than the next mass-bred hybrid. No different from a regular human being other than his extra features and supposed lowly due his his status as a chore-doing pet. He was nothing special, and he knew that quite well. Their were thousands just like him, and he could be easily replaced. Easily dropped off ‘like the garbage you are’ in front of the crummy shelter he was bought from. 

Easily bought by someone much worse, much meaner, “you really think I’m that bad to you? Wait until someone else gets their hands on you”. He never knew kindness, but he’d only heard that he could have it worse, and he’d rather have this than something more. Sure, he was lucky, because just like the terrible man told him, “somebody else could bend you over a table and have you, even if you hate it, and I could but you’re just fucking lucky”. Patches of thinning fur on his tail wasn’t so bad, as long as it wasn’t worse. There would be nights when he’d be beaten to all hell, lips bleeding and ears ringing, wrists bruised and sore, his owner left only with scratches up his arms from Louis fighting him off. But it could be worse. That’s what he thought and that’s what he had to live by. Because if he didn’t, what else would he have?

Nine in the morning was the best part of the day, the time when that terrible man would leave. At 8:55, the man would tug on shoes, comb his hair, then go back to the bed to grab Louis’ hair by the handful whether or not the cat was still asleep. Often, his mocha triangular ears would be caught as well, tugged up to lift the small man’s head. If Louis was already awake, which he often was, he’d occasionally try to slap the hand away before it reached him. But that was only returned twice over, so Louis had long given up with that. Once his head was up, and eyes squinted disdainfully open, the man would mutter a direction for the day. Usually something along the lines of, “Clean the damn kitchen, you left it a fucking mess.” Or, “I had friends over last night. Go pick up the living room.” After this, often promptly when nine AM hit, the man would let go of Louis, and leave.

Every footstep was heard as the man walked down the hallway, then the stairs, and finally Louis would hear the front door open and close. The cat would get up from the bed, peek out the window, and watch the man’s car back out of the driveway. Seeing off the car down the road, Louis knew he was alone again. Until six that evening, it was just him and the house. His day never started well, and often ended worse, but it was those brief eight hours of solitude that gave Louis enough energy to continue on. So, for years, he had kept this routine, and his days went by bleakley and uneventfully.

A Tuesday morning in mid February came to pass, starting much like any other regular day for Louis. Grabbed by the hair, he was told to do the laundry, then step-step-step down the hall- until the man was gone. Yawning, Louis put on some comfortable clothes and wandered down the hallway. After using the bathroom, he went downstairs, going to the kitchen. It was silent in the house. No shouting, no slammed doors or drunken muttering from a man barely sober enough to walk. Just quiet, blissful solitude. 

Once in the kitchen, Louis began making breakfast. He left a mess behind himself, as he usually did, thinking defiantly to himself that today would be the day he’d tell the man to fuck off to hell and to clean it himself. He left eggshells on the counter, still dripping. Plastic wrappers of microwave bacon tossed aside to the floor. His dirty plate, once he was done, was left on the table. Like always, though, after watching television for a few minutes, he sighed, and returned to the messy kitchen. Cleaned his discarded trash, washed his dishes, pushed in the drawers and chair. While he considered himself rebellious, he rarely outwardly showed that, unless he wanted to wake up bruised and sore. 

After breakfast, he took himself outside for a walk. The apartment complex was full of people much like his owner, single people living alone, and the occasional childless young couple. At this time of day, nearly every resident was out to work. The few that were around were elderly or unemployed, and Louis would often come across them sitting outside on their porches. This was the only time of his day that involved other people, when he’d wave hello, sometimes be asked how he was, and older women would offer him a piece of candy like he was a little child. They were decent to him, but just like his owner always said, you never know what people are like behind closed doors. He was sure few, if any, of his owner’s friends knew how he was at home. And Louis felt sure many other people were the same way. So he limited his interactions, denying the candy, only giving a quiet wave hello. Never giving the wrong idea that he wanted to be around them.

He never dressed in a very inviting manner either. Strolling through the complex, he was in plain clothing; simple sweatpants and a loose hoodie that kept him from the cool late-winter breezes. Nothing interesting, no talking points of having a cute outfit. Just something comfortable to walk in. He’d even snuck his owner’s old iPod shuffle, a practically forgotten electronic that the man had left discarded in a drawer. None of it was music Louis had picked, of course, and he didn’t even know the names of the songs due to the screenless device, but it was something to listen to with one cheap earbud in his ear.

Going around a corner, now facing the back of the building where garages opened onto the small street, he saw a frequent sight. A tiny U-Haul was parked in one of the short driveways, and a single man was just coming out of the garage empty handed, going back to the truck. People were always moving in and out- the complex didn’t have many people that stayed longer than their six month leases besides those few who were always single and always working the same job endlessly. Still, Louis watched in curiosity, mostly just liking to spy on what kinds of things the man was carrying.

A tall frame, with long, lightly tanned arms came back out from the truck carrying a plain brown box. Nothing much exciting to spy on, but being as Louis was walking slow, there wasn’t much else to look at. Two more trips between garage and truck passed, before Louis was near enough to really see some fun details. 

The two boxes, which the man was now carrying stacked on top of each other with considerable effort, were both labeled in large letters ‘CANDLES’. Louis couldn’t help but wonder why in the world the man apparently had so many candles. The boxes looked heavy, after all. And when the man set the boxes down, and picked up more, the next two also read quite boldly, ‘CANDLES’. The cat wrinkled his nose in thought, curiosity pecking at him. What the hell was this man doing with all these candles? His pace slowed, unabashedly staring at the stranger, barely noticing himself that he was doing so. He slowed until he was just a few feet away, just across the street, watching the man take box after box all labeled identically out of the truck. 

After a minute of staring, it seemed the man took notice of him, and stood up straight, raising a hand to wave hello. His bass-deep voice called out, “Uh, hi, kitty. Just moving in.” Like most people assumed, he was greeted like a wandering cat, which wasn’t too far from the truth. Louis looked at him for a moment- it wasn’t too often that he saw someone else around his age in the complex, since most people were at work at this time. The man had long, dark hair, the top half sloppily knotted up. He was a touch taller, it seemed, and definitely a little bigger than him. 

He forgot he was staring until the man spoke up again, most likely just to break the silence. “Want a biscuit?” The man said, reaching into his pocket and quickly producing what looked like a regular cat treat- definitely not something meant for Louis’ very much human digestion. He assumed this meant the man had an actual cat, and while this definitely interested Louis, he wasn’t going to be coaxed anywhere. Even for the allure of seeing a cute little cat. Instead, he just waved, and kept walking, intending to keep this interaction short and pointless just like any other.

That was, until he heard a clicking sound, and a soft, “Here, kitty kitty, come have a treat,” called in a sweet, low voice. It perked Louis’ ears right up, and he turned his head a bit to glance out the corners of his eyes at the man. Who was now bending down, one hand on his knee and the other holding out the little circular treat, shaking it up and down. Summoning him much like one would tempt a feral four-legged cat, Louis’ nose twitched a bit, annoyed that he was being treated that way. 

Unable to hold down his pettish nature and knowing this was only a stranger who would likely do nothing about being snapped at, he retorted, “Don’t call me like that, I’m not your house cat.” He stayed still, waiting to see the man’s response.

“Oh,” the other blinked, standing up straight again, tucking the treat back into his pocket. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. Just thought you were a cute one, and you look a little glum.” The man seemed a little sheepish after his fumble, seeming to absentmindedly fix his hair while he talked.

“Whatever, none of your business anyway.” With that, Louis decided he was done talking. This was supposed to be his quiet time, his private stroll around before the mess that would be the rest of his day. So he wasted no more of his precious time, turning on his heels, heading back the way he came so he could get home sooner. His arms now crossed, he walking defiantly back to his street, going back to the door of the apartment. He reached out to turn the handle, intending to go back in and watch some television-

Only to find it locked. For a short moment, he thought it was just a bit stuck, so he grabbed it with both hands and turned hard. Nothing, so he did the same whilst pressing his weight against the solid wood. It barely budged, and it was then that his heart started to pick up a bit. What about the window? He knew he had to find a way in, he had to- if he didn’t he didn’t know what to do. Taking a walk outside was definitely not on his allowed list of daily activities, being as the only thing that was allowed was cleaning up the house and staying “the fuck out of the way”. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, pausing and staring at the unyielding handle of the door. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he whispered again, his hands reaching up to his head and tugging at the roots of his hair. He went to the only ground-floor window at the left of the door, tugging desperately at the wood base, but it refused to move at all. He was already picturing the night he was about to have, his future weeks, months, life of solitude locked up in the house. Once his owner saw him locked outside, that would be the end of having a door that unlocked from the inside. It would be a future of keys, windows painted shut. Or, being dropped back off at the crummy shelter, where he really would know a worse life when all the things his owner described came true, a terrible person buying him and making him even more miserable than he already was. He sat down on the front step, laying his arms on his knees and resting his forehead down. Might as well sit quietly rather than panic even more until the inevitable happened.

A few minutes went by, then an hour, and another. He wasn’t sure exactly what time it was, but the sun was far from its noon crest and it was getting a lot chillier and darker. Clouds were covering the pinkening sky, hiding what could have been a lovely setting sun. The wind had picked up too, though only a little breeze, but it was enough for the underdressed Louis to shiver a little. He had definitely been prepared for a short walk, but not exactly sitting outside in February cold later into the day. Even though the concrete step was getting pretty cold, there wasn’t really anywhere else to sit. He could see his breath a bit in the chilly air, and his nose was reddened at the tip. Soon, he knew his owner would be home, returning from an afternoon drink at the bar with coworkers as usual. His head was still down, until he heard a familiar voice call out.

“Hey, you alright? It’s freezing out here.” Louis looked up quickly, and saw the tall man standing a few feet away on the sidewalk. He was just looking at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised at him.

“I’m fine,” the cat quipped back, “I’m not cold.”

Chuckling a little, the sound seeming melancholy, he replied, “Well you look cold. Why are you out here? Have you been outside this whole time?”

Louis paused before nodding a bit, and saying, “I got locked out. I’m just waiting for my owner, so fuck off.” This response seemed to surprise the man, though it was what Louis was going for. A bit of shock and put-offishness, to deter anymore conversation.

“That’s a bit harsh, only trying to be nice here,” the man said, stepping a bit closer. “I’m Harry. If you’re locked out why don’t you come stay at my place at least until you’re warmed up?”

“Hell no!” Louis replied quickly, “I’m not going off with some stranger, do you think I’m dumb? And don’t try that stupid treat thing again, because I’m not falling for that either.”

The man, Harry, raised his hands innocently. “Okay, I’m sorry about that. And I guess you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. But do you want a jacket?” He was already removing his coat as he said it, and was soon holding it out towards Louis. 

Sure, Louis wasn’t going to accept any invitations into a home or disgusting feline treats, but he was smart enough to know he’d be freezing cold by the time his owner got home. Taking a jacket was no offer of friendship, just a way to keep warm. “Fine,” he grumbled, reaching out to take it.

As he wrapped it around himself, slipping his arms in, he took a deep breath. The soft, fur-lined coat was still warm from the other wearing it. It smelled like musky perfume, not quite like the cheap cologne and whiskey his owner often reeked of. Not like candles either, which is what he would have assumed it might smell of. Instead it was just warm and huskily scented, and the cat could already feel himself getting more comfortable despite the winter chill.

“See, looking better already,” Harry hummed, crouching down until he was eye to eye with the now comfortable looking Louis. “What are you doing on a walk in the cold anyway?”

“Well what were you doing?” Louis quickly retorted, not thinking it was anyone’s business but his own, and he shouldn’t have to be questioned so much.

“I was on my way to the leasing office to pick up a spare key. So, what about you?” He seemed pleased that he’d answered, expecting that the cat would do the same.

It wasn’t received, though, as all he got was a sharp, “Going on a fucking walk, what did it look like I was doing?” He was expecting the man to either back off or get upset at him, but he got quite the opposite. Instead, Harry just laughed at him.  
“You’re pretty sharp-tongued, you know. Where’d you get that from? Most hybrids I know are more sweet and quiet, but I think you’re much more like a real cat. Pretty grumpy and you don’t seem to care at all what I say.” This response flared Louis up a little, his cheeks getting red at being seen through so well rather than from the breeze.

“So what? I think you’re different from most people I see here, you’re all in my business that isn’t yours anyway, so fuck-” Louis stopped when he heard the sqeualing sound of the complex gate swinging open. His head snapped to look to the side where he saw something that had been filling him with dread all day. A dull gray Kia, rolling down the street, drifting a little too far into the right lane as someone not-so-sober made their way closer.

“Go away,” Louis muttered, ripping off the coat and chucking it at the man. Harry jumped a bit, barely catching it as it flew at his face. “Go home already! Can’t you see I don’t need your help?”

Just as Harry was standing up, Louis’ owner had suddenly braked, and then seemed to accelerate until he was in front of the apartment were he abruptly stopped again. The car was thrown into park, as Harry finally stood up straight, turning to face the vehicle. As he opened his mouth, presumably to respond to Louis, the door to the car flew open.

A messy, business-casual dressed man threw the door of the car open, clumsily climbing out. “What the fuck-,” he shouted, before stumbling, and then slamming the door, “Is this shit?”

Louis jumped to his feet, stepping backwards towards the door until his back was against it. “Nothing! I just got locked out answering the door!” He responded quickly, as his owner started stumbling towards them.

Harry glanced between them, not sure what to say, but as the owner approached, he held a stiff hand out as if trying to stop him. It was obvious the man was angry, though he wasn’t entirely sure what for. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said, raising an eyebrow, still confused about what could possibly be making the man so upset. “Just came to introduce myself, I just moved in.”

“Who gives a shit? There are always people moving in, you’re nothing special.” The owner walked past Harry, his feet stepping heavily, until he was at the door, inches from Louis. He reached around the cat for a moment, spending far too long trying to focus his drunken fingers enough to unlock the door. “Come here again and I’ll fuck you up good, mate,” he shouted at Harry, swinging open the door. Swiftly, he grabbed Louis by the back of his head, holding tight to his hair. He spun the boy around, pushing him into the house. 

Just before the door slammed shut behind them, Louis heard the robust, low voice of Harry uttering, “Hey, don’t-!”


	2. An Unexpected Result

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has the symptoms generally associated with a concussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly thanks all so much for the kudos and etc. on the last chapter, it's really hyped me up to keep writing. I wrote way too much so I'll have to split it up into different chapters which is good for ya'll!
> 
> I'm really enjoying writing again so the support makes me so happy :)

A sharp, constant ringing sound woke Louis up. It was consistent, but seemed to get louder as the boy came to. As he became more aware of himself, he realized the sound was coming from his own head. Legs curled to his chest, feeling cold and terribly uncomfortable. Where was he again? Scratchy fabric poked his feet, though when he moved his leg to get more comfortable he felt an aching pain in his hip. Right away upon opening his eyes, he felt like he might throw up, but pushed it down to turn his head and glanced around himself. As he turned from his side onto his back, his head felt groggy and his vision seemed to blur at every movement. Daylight was streaming in from the window next to the front door, letting him know he was in the living room, apparently having slept on the couch. 

Some things were starting to come back to him, memories he wasn’t happy to recall from the night before. Shouting, the smell of whiskey, the searing pain in his head as he was dragged all around. Some parts he could barely remember, like laying on the floor before suddenly seeming to black out, but the nausea and dizziness he felt as he now tried to stand up told him he’d likely not just passed out. He started to yawn, but winced when his lips stretched and a blood-caked wound reopened. Reaching up his hand, he felt his lower lip, finding it was bleeding a bit again, and a dried trail of blood led from his nose to the corner of his mouth.

Sighing, he got up, and made his way slowly to the front door. Out the window, he saw his owner’s car was now gone, so at least it seemed the man had already left for the day. He looked at the lock on the door, relieved to find that no changes to it had been made to it- yet. Those were sure to come, and he knew his owner would most likely be heading straight to the hardware store after work to keep Louis from leaving again. It wasn’t the best idea to go out again, but it would likely be the last day he had a chance, and as long as he was careful it wouldn’t be a problem. So, he turned, going upstairs to clean himself up a little.

Stepping into the bathroom, he thought for a second, before deciding to glance into the mirror.

The first thing he noticed was a glaring bruise across his left cheekbone, nearly reaching his ear and ending at the apple of his cheek. It was wide, red in the middle, already turning blues and purples along the edges. Usually he wouldn’t go out looking like that, but if was his last day of any ounce of freedom he was going to take it. A smaller, round bruise ached on his eyebrow, and there was still dried blood caked around his nose and lip.

Undressing, he turned on the shower, and once it was warm stepped in. Despite the pain in his body and the constant feeling that he might pass out, he scoured and washed every inch of himself. Aggressively removing any remnants of the beating he’d taken the night before. Not wanting to have to remember it any more than the aches already were. His nose hurt to touch, but all the blood had to go, washed down the drain with Axe-scented body wash that he’d surely get in trouble for using later. His tail and ears twinged with pain at the bases, as if they’d been pulled to all hell. While the fur on his tail had always had thin patches from occasional tugging, he now found an inch-around spot towards the middle that was almost entirely bare. The skin there was speckled with red where the follicles had been ripped right out, and it burned to even touch. But it had to get washed, so it did. Half an hour of scrubbing later and he felt cleaner, so he stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. 

In the bedroom, he got himself some clothes, careful to cover himself up more than he usually might. The last thing Louis wanted to do was waste his day getting false sympathy from neighbors that he didn’t give a shit about.

The only one who was truly worried about seeing was that dumb man from yesterday. Harry, that one who’d probably gotten him in even more trouble for talking to a stranger. Harry, who had called out just before the door was shut on him, saying “don’t”. Don’t what, Louis thought? As if the man could actually care at all whether Louis got hurt at all. He was a total stranger, and Louis hadn’t exactly been polite to him. In his mind, it was no more than a half-hearted attempt to look concerned, before probably just heading straight home without a care in the world.

Now dressed in a warm sweatshirt, and a windbreaker over with the hood up, he decided it was time to head out. He went downstairs, hands in his pockets. The little iPod was nowhere to be found, so he assumed it was probably long gone or smashed up in the trash somewhere. So it was just him and his thoughts as he walked out the door, this time making sure it was unlocked behind him and left a little cracked just in case. 

It felt like the world was moving a little slow around him. Every time his eyes flickered in a different direction, he almost couldn’t see for a moment, and his feet felt groggy and slow as if he wasn’t moving them. Obviously, when he looked down, they definitely were moving, he was walking, but was he doing that? Where was he going again? He stared forward for a second, suddenly stopping and turning in a circle. The wrong way, or at least backwards from the direction he usually walked. Or was it?

Reaching up, he rubbed his hands against his temples, a headache burning into his eye sockets. A beating was usually something he could handle, but he didn’t recall ever feeling so… off, the next day. Had being out in the cold so long made him sick, maybe? Or was it just the stress of the night before? With no health knowledge whatsoever he wasn’t really sure what was wrong. Wait, was he walking again? He stopped again, and looked around, seeing he was already at least a block of buildings away from his own.

“Shit,” he murmured to himself, not angry, but his eyes squinting and blinking, thinking to himself. Should he go home, then? Why was he so confused? Unknowingly, he stood still for a minute, before hearing something.

The first call, he didn’t even recognize it was a voice, but looked up anyway. Oh, there was that dumb, tall man again. Harry was there- was that where he was? All the way to Harry’s apartment, or at least a few doors down from where Harry was out on his porch. He was holding another moving box, but was just standing still facing Louis. “Uh.. what?” Louis called back, too confused to curse at him like another part of his mind was telling him to.

“I, uh, asked if you’re alright?” Harry repeated, setting the box down and walking towards Louis. “Your owner seemed pretty mad, I didn’t mean to- hey, are you okay? Oh my god, what happened? Are you, are you listening to me?”

Louis’ gaze had shifted to the ground, staring at Harry’s feet. The words the other were saying felt like they were individually getting logged in his mind, until he was so backed up that he had barely understood a thing the other said. “I’m alright, what the fuck do you care?” He finally managed to get out, only managing to answer the first question being as he couldn’t remember the rest.

“Well you look like you went through a washing machine on high, that’s all. Doesn’t that hurt?” Harry reached out, unable to help trying to push off the hood over Louis’ head in order to see the extent of his bruising better. Despite tilting himself back a touch to try to stop him, Louis just couldn’t seem to move fast enough to do so, and so the hood went down. “What happened? You really seem like you aren’t listening to me, do you have a concussion?”

“I don’t fit in a washing machine, dumbass,” Louis retorted, seeming to think that was the proper response. “Mind your fucking business, just- like, mind your fucking business,” He repeated, waving one of his hands in the air. “Because, if you would just mind your business, I don’t know, like.. Dumbass.”

Harry blinked at him, then bent down, reaching his eye level. “I think you have a concussion. Do you know what that means?”  
Louis stared into his eyes for a long few seconds. The train of thought left the station, and he just stared. “Green. Greeny blue,” he sighed. He said it as if he was answering a question, just staring into Harry’s greeny-blue-more green than blue eyes, kind of brown.

“What’s your name?” The green eyes asked, seeming to sound so very patient, like the way parents talked on TV.

“Louis.”

“Oh, that’s a nice name. It’s a really cute name for you. Do you remember my name, Louis?” His voice was low and like dark honey, sweet and gentle, making Louis a little bit calmer.

“Harry,” he answered quietly, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Okay Louis, I know you don’t like me very much, but do you think you want to go to a, uh, vet, I suppose? Does your head hurt pretty bad?” Harry tilted his head a touch, his hands on his knees, his face just a little lower than Louis’.

“It hurts. I think I hit it.”

“I don’t think you hit it, Louis. I think you need to get a little help to feel better, or you’re going to get a lot more sick, okay?” Slowly, ever so tenderly, Harry reached towards him. Louis moved back for a moment, but the other man moved so gingerly that Louis allowed him to lay a hand on his arm. It was warm, even through his coat, and didn’t hurt, so he allowed it.

“Uhm… I don’t know, I think I’ll get in a lot of trouble.” His mind caught up with him, knowing right away that, hey, fuck just going on a walk, his owner might kill him if he ever drove off with somebody. Forget getting returned to the shelter, he’d get chained up to the bed or something if he did that. “Yeah, I think I’d get in too much trouble.”

“You won’t, I promise. I won’t let you get in trouble again. Poor thing, you don’t deserve to be punished for needing to go to the doctor.” Harry’s hand moved up to his shoulder, his thumb rubbing in a circle, soothing Louis more than he could describe. That comforting touch, so simple and small that it probably took no effort at all for Harry to do, it just felt so sweet…

“If I pass out, will I get in trouble?” He mumbled, and as he did, Harry’s eyes narrowed, and Louis shrugged, “I don’t know what’s going on.” 

With a flutter of his eyelids, and the feeling of his knees getting shaky, he suddenly decided he was going to sleep for a second, and he heard Harry say something incoherent before blacking out.

\---

Talking, he heard talking, a few feet away, fast rambling of words. Was someone talking to him? While he was sleeping? Louis groaned, wondering what it was that his owner was going on about. The voice was deeper, though, there it was, that low voice, but fast and strained.

“Look, he’s just, laying there, should I wake him up or something? Just get over here please, is this illegal? Am I not allowed to take him? Is this, like, petnapping?”

Louis wanted to roll over, say something, but he just felt so tired. Everything hurt, his whole body felt like it weighed more than usual, like he was a thousand pounds and glued to whatever he was sleeping on.

“Okay, well yeah, he’s got a giant knot on his head, but the rest of him is all beat up too. He just passed out, and when I brought him inside he threw up… Hold on, I think I’m going to take him, then. Liam, I’ll call you back, I’ve got to carry him. If I don’t call you back I got arrested or something. Bye, mate... Thanks a million, I’ll see you later then.”

Whatever he was laying on was much more comfortable than his owner’s couch. It was soft, cushioned, and his head was lifted on what felt like a fur pillow. Warm, too, like he had a blanket on, and everything around him smelled like lavender and some kind of cleaning detergent. Nothing like what he was used to, it was pleasant and welcoming, making him want to just stay there and sleep for a few more hours at least. Soon, he felt hands slipping under his body, and he was lifted up, carried under his shoulders and knees, held against someone’s chest. Whoever it was, they smelled so familiar, like expensive cologne, and then it struck him who it was.

“Where are we going?” He murmured, blinking his eyes open, looking up to see it was in fact Harry carrying him. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing lugging me around like this..” He murmured every word, feeling too sluggish and achy to bother fighting the man off. Anyway, if he was going to take him to a doctor, there wasn’t really much wrong with that. The worst that would happen would be a shot, and that wasn’t so bad, and at best he’d be feeling better. Because at the moment, he felt utterly like shit.

“Taking you to the vet, alright? After that you can do whatever you want, if you want you can stay here or I can take you somewhere else.” Harry held him with one arm for a moment, opening his front door, and carrying him outside. He went to his car, a shiny little Mini Cooper, looking older but kept well. Reaching it, he first opened the passenger door, setting Louis down gently. The boy huffed, but pulled on the seat belt, and once the door was shut he leaned himself against it. 

A few minutes later, they were quietly on their way. Even the smallest bumps while driving were making Louis a little nauseous but he managed to hold down the urge to throw up anymore. He recalled throwing up earlier, and vaguely the night before as well, and now there wasn’t much left to puke up. If anything, he was just hungry, having not eaten since breakfast the day before. Briefly, he touched his face, feeling that his cheek was swollen and sore, and for the first time reached up and feeling an extremely raw bump on his head. When he accidentally grazed against it, he couldn’t help but to yelp, alerting Harry to look over.

“Hey, you okay? Try not to touch your head, we’re almost there, okay?” He had looked back at the road already, but Louis watched him for a second before nodding. 

What did Harry care so much for, anyway? Didn’t other people treat their hybrids like this? Weren’t there people who did much worse? All this thinking was muddying his mind, making him wonder about how the rest of this day was going to go. In reality, he figured he’d just go back to his owner. Whatever the doctor would do would probably make him feel better, and maybe if they got back fast enough, his owner would never even know he was gone. If this turned out okay, he could just go back to what he presumed was only a mildly crummy life, at least compared to how his owner described other people.

A few minutes later, Harry had pulled into a parking lot, and stopped the car in front of a white and blue building. It was cleaner looking than the others around it, save for the owners walking in and out with crying or sniffling or coughing hybrids. The other man unbuckled his seatbelt, so Louis did the same, and when Harry got out so did he. He quietly followed him, walking just behind him as Harry glanced back to make sure he was coming.

Typical procedure for a doctor’s office followed- told to wait, but to fill out a form. Initially, Harry just handed the clipboard and pen to Louis. They both took a seat next to each other, but after staring quietly down at the piece of paper for a minute, flipping through it, Harry looked over at him.

“Can you fill it out? Too dizzy?” The man asked, holding out his hand.  
“Uhm, yeah. Can you read it and I’ll tell you?” Louis sheepishly agreed, lifting the clipboard to Harry, who took it and starting reading aloud the questions.

“Name, Louis. Owner, ah, what’s his name?”

“Samael Owens.”

“Okay. So..” This continued on, mostly boring questions like his address, where he was bought from, and his symptoms. Nothing too interesting, and once it was done, Harry held onto it and they waited quietly until Louis heard his name called from the corner of the room.

A door was there, and a woman was leaning out of it smiling at them. “Louis and Harry? You can come on in.” They both stood, and Louis was starting to feel a bit self conscious. He wasn’t exactly dressed for going out, and he definitely didn’t look like he should be walking around. The bruise on his face and the split on his lip were glaringly obvious, and he had already caught some glances from some other patients and even the receptionists behind the counter. On top of that, it was hard to focus, his head feeling dizzy and feet heavy.

Luckily, they didn’t have to walk far, and soon they were in a clean, brightly lit room. As nice as it was to be somewhere so clean, the light gave Louis a blinding headache, and he squinted his eyes as he made his way to sit on the tall examination table.

“Is the light too bright?” Harry asked, “You don’t have to squint, I’ll dim it.” He got up, spinning the dial on the wall until the light was just dim enough to be able to see, but dark enough that his headache was receding. Louis couldn’t help but note that it was… thoughtful, well-intentioned with seemingly no expectation for a return. 

It was nice. Nice for no reason. This whole situation was just Harry being nice for no reason in particular. In fact, Harry was losing out doing this- he stopped unloading his moving truck, he wasted gas getting him here, was spending his time waiting with him, was going to be spending probably far too much money here just to help him feel better. And there was no give back, just take away. Louis just couldn’t understand what would make him do it, or what reward he was expecting to get. Lulling him into a false sense of security just to hurt him later, maybe. But if he wanted a hybrid to be horrible to he didn’t have to waste his time doing all of this, he could have just gone to the crummy shelter fifteen minutes down the road and picked up any one of them that he liked.

But he didn’t. He was here, sat in a vet office filled with sick hybrids, stuck with a beat up cat that could barely walk straight.

While he was thinking about this, the doctor came in, a short blonde woman dressed in a white coat over nice clothing. “Oh, dark in here, huh? Somebody has a concussion, I think,” she chuckled, sitting on a wheeled chair and rolling to the edge of the bed next to Louis. 

“So sweety, want to tell me what happened?” She asked gently, a faint smile still on her face.

Honestly, this was the most interaction Louis had had with strangers for years. Even then, it was never such nosy, intrusive questions. His anxiety was at an all time high, not knowing what he was supposed to tell anyone, if he should even tell them anything at all. Weren’t they just going to send him right back where he came from, a little bandaged up but right back into his hell hole? What did any of this matter if his owner was just going to keep doing this?

“No, fuck off,” he stated bluntly, his fingers moving to twist around the string on his sweatpants. “None of this is anyone’s business anyway so I don’t know why the hell I got dragged here.”

“Well, Louis,” she hummed, not seeming to respond poorly at all to his crude statements. “We’re just here to help you. If someone is hurting you, that’s very bad, and they aren’t allowed to do that to you. You don’t have to be treated that way at all.”

He blinked- “Not allowed?” What was that supposed to mean, if every other owner did that, or at least, he thought they did, didn’t they?

“No, of course not. You should be loved and that means no one should hurt you,” she answered, tilting her head a little. “It’s illegal, that means if someone hurts you they go to jail.”

Silence fell over him for a second. This wasn’t normal? Not the low end of the spectrum, his owner didn’t treat him better than someone else might. It just couldn’t be right, because if it was it just made Louis feel a little… dumb. Hell, though, if that was true, then what was he doing still thinking about having to go back there? Why didn’t he just spit it all out, tell them everything and get to go- ah, there. It would just be back to the crummy shelter. And no one wants a beat up looking hybrid other than someone who would do the same thing. He’d either be stuck there for ages or taken home by someone just as bad.

It took a minute without a response, but finally the doctor said, “How about I patch you up a little and let you think about it? When we’re done maybe you can tell me what happened.” With that, she stood up, and went to the counter. She pulled drawers open, getting gauze and alcohol pads.

“I wish I could do something for those bruises, but they’ll heal up on their own, okay? Nothing’s broken. Let me see that finger, though, huh?” She requested, holding her hand out palm up. Louis tilted his head for a moment, before realizing what she meant. He held his right hand out, and once she had it, she gingerly touched his ring finger. “A little crooked, isn’t it? Looks like you broke it and never got it fixed up. Why not?”

“I was in trouble,” he murmured, looking down at it before pulling his hand back and tucking them both into his pockets. She moved to him, lifting the alcohol wipe to his face, where she wiped his lip gently with it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis could see Harry watching them. His hands were in his lap, twiddling his thumbs, seeming to be deep in contemplation. Not even noticing that Louis was staring at him, just looking at them, biting his own lip as the nurse cleaned the cat’s. Concern seemed to fill his eyes, those pretty greenish eyes that Louis’ dumb concussed head just seemed to want to stare into and appreciate the hues of.

His reverie was interrupted when the doctor asked again, “Okay, you’re a little more cleaned up now. No infections for you. So Louis, want to tell me anything about what happened?”

He sighed, and had come to the decision that if nothing else, at least he wouldn’t have to go back. Maybe last night was the last time this would happen to him, maybe it would happen again with someone else. Maybe not though, so if was worth it. “Yeah… I guess.”

“Did your owner get mad at you?”

“Mm… yes, he got mad. I wasn’t supposed to be outside, I’m not allowed out. But I go on walks while he’s gone. And I locked myself out,” he explained, glancing at Harry once more before looking down at his lap. “So he knew I’ve been going out when I’m not supposed to. And he was drunk and really, really angry at me.”

“Is he usually drunk?”

“Yeah, always, even when he’s driving and even at work, and always when he’s home. It smells so bad. And it makes him even more mad. Am… I going to get in trouble? For leaving?” Even now, he was worried that maybe he’d done something illegal, maybe cats weren’t supposed to be walking around like that, what if he was supposed to tell someone sooner and that was illegal, what if what if what if.

“No, of course not! You’re not in trouble at all. You shouldn’t be punished for any of that, everyone should be allowed to go outside whenever they want. Does he punish you often?”

“Every fucking day,” he grumbled, one of his hands now frustratingly picking at his sweatpants string. “It’s fucking stupid, I’m fucking stupid, I really thought that everyone did that and I really thought that he was being decent to me, when really I’m just a fucking idiot.”

Harry shifted in his seat, piping up now, “No you’re not. He’s just an evil person, Louis, who convinced you of all of that. That’s what bad people do. How were you supposed to know?”

Louis thought, then shrugged. “Then what happens to me? I go back to the shelter, I guess.”

“Well, yes, but-” The doctor started, before she was interrupted by Harry.

“No, you can come back home with me. Unless you don’t want to, but you can stay with me and meet my friends and maybe you’ll find someone that you want to stay with. It’s up to you, Louis. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to anymore.”

\---

Twenty minutes later, after the doctor confirming his concussion and giving him a few prescriptions, they were done. Harry paid- Louis gawked at the bill, 200 quid just for a visit? But it didn’t seem to bother the tall man at all. Harry just paid right up, and then they were on their way out, the shorter cat following the way back to the car. They both got in silently, neither seeming sure of what to say.

Of course he had agreed to go with him. It was either that or a shelter, and at least with Harry there was a fair chance of being a little bit… happier. Just a few minutes from the apartments, the other spoke, starting in a gentle voice.

“It’s really brave of you to be honest, Louis. Lots of people don’t talk about things like that, but I promise that because you did everything is going to be better, alright?”

Nodding, Louis hummed out, “Alright.” Even if it wasn’t true, even if things wouldn’t be better, it made him feel not quite so downtrodden to at least think they might be.  
Back in the apartment, the two spent a little time getting him settled. Harry tried to insist that he take the bed, but Louis didn’t want to put him out, so they settled that he could sleep on the couch if they set it up cozily. And they did. Like a quiet dream, they carefully arranged the couch with pillows and extra blankets. Not everything was unpacked, but Harry set up the television in front of the couch on the floor, just far enough away that the cat could lay down and watch it. A space heater was set nearby to keep him toasty, and Harry helped him take the pain medication that the doctor had prescribed him.

For the first time, Louis felt cared for. Undoubtedly, even a little bit spoiled. None of this was over the top, more so just the most general of care for someone alone and sick, but still. It was niceness he wasn’t used to. And when he laid down that night on the couch, he felt safe. He didn’t feel anxious that he’d get pulled by the hair in the morning, or that any second his owner could blow his top. He went to sleep feeling he wouldn’t need to worry about being scared.


	3. Read It and Weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lou is trying to settle in. Harry is trying to figure him out. Neither of them seem to understand each other yet, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha bet you thought I was going to abandon this. Well, I almost did, but you all seemed to like it so much that I decided to keep going. I've had mooost of this chapter written for a while, but I kind of hated it and deleted half of it, and then tried to fix what I didn't like. I like it more now but it is a lot shorter, sorry.

Restful sleep didn’t come often for Louis. Always, he was on edge, ready to wake at any nearby movement in a meager attempt to reduce any damage he was about to take. If he was going to get grabbed, he might as well be awake, giving him a better chance of getting hurt less. That wasn’t the case at the moment, though. Not because he’d suddenly dropped his guard just because he was somewhere new, but because whatever pain medication the doctor had prescribed had most definitely knocked him right out. He dreamed vividly, weird and confusing things, nothing that made much sense. After several hours, though, he had a particularly realistic dream.

Suddenly, he felt like he couldn’t breathe properly, like he was being slowly smothered. At first, his sleeping from just tried to take heavier breaths. However it didn’t seem to help at all, and soon he felt as if he might choke if he didn’t catch his breath. In his dream, it was just dark blackness, and quickly, the cat woke from his dream, blinking… And still seeing blackness. He still couldn’t breathe, and he realized it was because there really was something heavy on his face, something hot and covering his head.

Sitting up quickly, he yelped, reaching up to his face to find the object gone by the time he touched his mouth. “What the hell!” He gasped, looking around. Sunlight came through the back glass door, and there, he saw the culprit.

A rather fat cat was standing by the back door, staring at him with wide eyes. Not long after seeing it Louis realized it had been sleeping on his face. Generally, with anything else, he’d get rather angry, but he couldn’t help just cooing at the sweet, chubby cat. “Aw, so cute,” he hummed, getting up from the couch, already heading towards the kitty. The ache in his head had, of course, yet to recede- if anything it felt even worse now. Fortunately, at least, he didn’t feel like he couldn’t remember what he was doing anymore. He was able to walk straight despite the throbbing in his temple he felt each time he took a step.

“Hello, friend,” he sighed, bending down and rubbing its head. “You could have murdered me, you know?” Sitting down on the floor, the cat hopped in his lap, seeming to know already that they were a little similar. “Where’s Harry?” He asked it as if it would know, glancing around the room.

This apartment was a little smaller than Samael’s- this one was just one floor, with just the kitchen, living room, and a bedroom door down a short hall. He glanced at it, and saw it was open, so quietly, he stood up, holding the cat in his arms. At the door, he stopped, glancing in. Only to find it empty, which he wasn’t exactly expecting. The bed in the room wasn’t occupied, and the bathroom light was off. Having not seen Harry elsewhere he assumed the other must have left. “Guess he’s gone for now, huh?” He said to the feline he was carrying, wondering for a moment what he was going to do. A walk was out of the question; the vet said he couldn't give a statement to the police- although whatever that entailed he wasn’t sure- until his concussion was cleared up. So there was a good chance his owner would be looking for him, and the last thing he wanted was to get found.

So stay in the house it was. Going back to the living room, he saw a white note taped to the front door, which he hadn’t noticed before. “Uh oh, kitty,” he chuckled to himself, plucking the note from the door. It looked like scribbles of lines and half-circles mixed with lines. “Wonder what it says.” Taped to the note was a Ziploc bag, and in it were four tiny yellow pills, the same ones he had taken yesterday. The note probably mentioned something about them, but what?

He took them back to the sofa with him and set them down for the moment to figure out later. Instead, he just turned on the television and sat watching it. Apparently Harry didn’t have cable in the apartment yet, because he could only get a few channels, but he happily settled on one that was featuring weather documentaries. A little boring, but not so bad and at least it was something to watch. Staring at the television for too long at once was making his vision swim a bit, so every once in a while he’d close his eyes or stare off somewhere else and just listen to it. Better than just sitting in silence.

Some hours passed, and Louis learned way too much about tornadoes before, towards noon, he heard a phone ringing in the kitchen. His ears perked up, and he turned to look over there. At first, he let it ring out until it stopped, assuming the call wasn’t meant for him. However it rang again, so Louis sighed, and walked over. There on the counter was a white house phone, set on a little charger, with some more letters running across the screen. Hesitantly, he picked it up, setting it on speaker- phones weren’t really suited for the position of his ears.

“Uhm, hello?” He answered, tilting his head to wait for a response.

Harry’s voice suddenly came loudly over the speaker, making Louis glad it wasn’t at his ear. “Louis! I was so worried, why didn’t you call?”

“Harry? Was I supposed to call?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see my note?” Harry seemed to laugh a little, continuing, “Maybe I should have made it more obvious. It’s on the front door, it has my number on it if you need anything, okay?”

“Oh… okay,” Louis responded, thinking for a second. “How many of the pills do I take?”

“It says so on the note, do you have it?”

“Uhm… Yeah, but how many?” Louis asked again, tracing his finger over a marble swirl on the countertop.

Harry paused for a moment before he answered, “Just one, and then at five you can take another if you need it. I’ve got to go now, though. I’m at work but I’ll be home by six, okay?” 

“Okay,” the cat hummed. Not having any more to ask, he said, “Goodbye, see you later.”

“Bye, Louis. Have a good day,” Harry responded sweetly, before Louis heard the call click to an end. He set it back down where he got it, a little pleased with himself for weaving around the note issue so smoothly. 

If there was one thing that really, really embarrassed him, it was not being able to read. Everyone else seemed to know how to do it and so much in the world depended on being able to. Channel listings on the television, phone numbers, names of buildings and addresses, even his own name. None of it made an ounce of sense when he looked at it, but if those words were all over then he knew everyone else could do it. Yet no matter how much he tried, he just could never find a way to figure out what any of it meant. There was never anyone to tell him what little squiggles made which sound, or even which squiggles were numbers and what others were letters. Maybe there wasn’t even a difference, but he wouldn’t know.

Sighing, he traipsed back to the couch, settling down next to the cat that was now napping on his pillow. Picking up the water bottle Harry had left him with the night before, he took one of the tiny pills, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste it left and the uncomfortable feeling of swallowing it. It wasn’t something he was used to doing. In fact, the vet the day before had needed to show him how to take them properly.

The rest of his day went by in a rather relaxed manner- it went on uninterrupted by worry, and after an hour of watching television the pain medication seemed to kick off again and he fell back asleep. This time, sitting up, leaving the chubby cat no choice but to sleep in his lap. With the television quietly continuing on about tornado hunters, and Louis now comfortable with the occasional disturbance of the cat moving, he slept peacefully.

Until he woke to the feeling of a hand on his head, his hair being gripped and scalp kneaded at. His first assumption was not that he was being petted. Rather, that his ear was about to be pulled to all hell. Eyes opening quickly, he flinched, making the cat in his lap hiss and sprint away. The fingers in his hair disappeared quickly, and Louis whipped around to see Harry standing behind him, both hands held up in the air.

“What the hell were you doing?” Louis panted, his heart beating a little fast. His body was shifted away, scooting to the opposite end of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked,” Harry apologized quickly, but Louis had already gone on the defensive.

“Well don’t do it again! Don’t assume I won’t hit you back, just because I got beat up doesn’t mean I won’t scratch the hell out of you!” He crossed his arms around himself, trying to appear at least a bit tough, but his tail twitched nervously next to him on the sofa.

“Louis,” Harry said gently, “I wasn’t going to hurt you, I promise. I was just giving you a little pet. But if you don’t want me to, that’s okay.”

The cat’s ear twitched, a little annoyed, but he ignored the other, opting not to respond. How was he supposed to be sure that if he hadn’t woken up, Harry wouldn’t have hurt him? For the time being, he was choosing not to trust him too much. Get too cozy, end up getting hurt. Letting his guard down had never ended well for him and he wasn’t going to go back on that now. His tail flicked into his lap, and he moved one hand towards it, twisting and tugging nervously at a few long strands of fur. 

He heard Harry sigh, before saying, “I brought you dinner. And just so you know, you can get anything you want from the kitchen whenever you’re hungry.” Out of the corner of his eye, Louis watched him set a white plastic bag down on the sofa, the smell of hot food catching his attention. Just a bit.

Harry hovered for a moment before turning, going to his room. The four-legged feline across the room watched before hurrying to follow him, his little legs trotting after. Once both were in the bedroom, the door shut, and Louis sighed.

Was he too mean? Was Harry really trying to pet him? Like a… pet? Just being nice. Shit.

Quietly, he picked up the bag, pulling out a styrofoam box and plastic utensils. Inside he found a warm serving of simple fish and chips, a little cup of mayo on the side. A cute little meal, something he wasn’t ever really treated to. Maybe Harry was just trying to win him over, make him comfortable. But was it because he was going to hurt him, or just because he wanted to be nice, to treat him well? Like other people apparently did to their hybrids.

For a good hour, the house was quiet while the two ate in separate rooms. Louis had seen his owner eat fish and chips many times, but never gotten to have it himself, other than frozen microwave meals. Hot and fresh, this was much tastier. Savoring every bite, he ate slowly, until by his last piece the food had gotten a little cool. It was so tasty he could hardly believe that this was something other people ate often, something he had very clearly been missing out on for a long time. Yet here he was, in a practical stranger’s house, who had bought it for him without asking and with no apparent expectation of a return to the favor.

“Shit,” Louis sighed, deciding he had definitely been far too harsh towards Harry. Threatening him for no reason was embarrassing to recall at this point. Although he didn’t appreciate having been touched uninvited, it was still a regretful response, and while he wanted to make the situation better, he wasn’t sure how. 

There had been a time when he was in trouble, Louis would cry and grovel and apologize. Sure, he was rarely ever really in the wrong in those situations, but he supposed that was the appropriate way to make retribution for doing wrong. But it had been years since he had taken that route, and he wasn’t sure if it really was right. Nothing he thought was right all along seemed to be true anymore.

Instead, he just poked his plastic fork into the empty styrofoam container in his lap, stabbing hole after hole into it until bits were falling apart. The sound of the bedroom door opening made his attention perk, and he turned to see Harry coming out with glasses on and a stack of papers in his hands.

“Here,” the tall man said gently, stepping around the couch and sitting down on the floor. He set the papers on the coffee table, and picked up a pen. “I have the forms to make a police report. Can you spell your name for me? Is it L-O-U-I-S or L-O-U-I-E?”

A silence fell as Harry waited for an answer, but it didn’t come. Harry looked over at him, seeming to blink in a bit of confusion. “Uhm.. Which one? How do you spell it?”

“The… first one,” Louis guessed blindly, figuring it wouldn’t matter too much if he was wrong. Who would point it out, anyway?

“Okay… And your owner’s name, it was weird, Samael. How do you spell that?”

Louis bit his lip, his fingers already twisting the fur of his tail again. “Something, like, like Samuel, it sounds the same as Samuel, so just spell it like that.”

He expected Harry to start writing again, but instead the other tapped his pen on the table in a moment of thought. Something seemed to strike him when he stopped tapping his pen. “Louis… How do you spell your name? Tell me the letters.”

“For what?” Louis replied sharply, “Didn’t I just tell you?”

“No, not really,” the other shrugged, turning his head to look at him rather than the papers. Soon, he was turning his whole body, until he was sitting cross-legged in front of the couch, facing the cat. “Look, if there’s anything you need help with, or anything you can’t do, I want you to tell me. It wouldn’t be your fault, you weren’t given a fair opportunity to learn. So, if you can, spell your name. If you can’t, just tell me. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Louis avoided making eye contact, although Harry’s eyes were peering up at him. “It is embarrassing. It’s humiliating,” he finally answered, fingers buried in the patchy fur of his tail. “Don’t bother telling me it’s not.” Tears were suddenly pricking his eyes, just making him feel even worse, sighing to try to push the urge to cry away. 

This answered Harry’s question well enough, as he nodded and picked his papers back up. “That’s not true. Don’t worry about it, alright? We’ll work on it. If it’s something you want to know how to do then we can just learn. Tomorrow we can start, so sleep well, and I’ll pick up some stuff to help after work. You can do it by yourself or I can do it with you,” he stated, voice husky and gentle as ever.

Louis stared at him, unsure what to say, before he just sighed and answered, “Alright.”

This idiot was too fucking nice, he thought, as the other got up and went back to the bedroom, leaving Louis to his own thoughts for the rest of the evening.


	4. Tipsy For a Hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ho ho, what's this?? An extra long chapter to make up for how little I've been writing? Yes indeed. Usually I write 8 pages for a chapter, this one is 12! And it's got what I hope is plenty of good development.
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for your support! Every comment makes me really happy, so even if you don't have much to say please do so, because I love reading them and responding!

Their evening was spent mostly apart, nothing Louis minded. Harry only came out briefly later in the night, just before bed, to remind Louis to take his medication. He had gently asked Louis if he could read the time, to which the cat responded with a furled tail and an attitude though of course the response was no. The other man had just nodded, a quiet understanding, before leaving him alone again. It took no more than an hour for the pills to make Louis groggy. Drifting off, he left the television on, curled up clumsily in the middle of the couch.

Based on the way he fell asleep, he would have expected to wake up rather cold and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the case. Like the morning before, he awoke warm and covered up with a blanket, though pillowless. Even though his outburst the day before was embarrassing, apparently Harry had still respected his wishes to not have his head touched while he was asleep. The four-legged feline, too, had opted to sleep behind his curled up knees, and Louis was glad to not be smothered in his sleep.

With each day another ache was appearing in his body. His face was hurting less, even though the bruising was looking worse; deep purple edged with yellow and brown curved over his cheekbone, making him grimace when he got up to go to the bathroom and saw himself in the mirror. The pain that day mostly radiated from his hip. Landing on it wrong, maybe, or getting a kick there. Whatever it had been, it was aching like hell and made it painful to walk. Itching plagued his tail, where the bare spots were starting to grow back in, and he couldn’t help but find himself holding the appendage in his hands and running his nails over it aggressively. 

Having gone without a shower the day before, he decided it was time to. First he searched for a towel, then came to realize he didn’t have any fresh clothes. With no other choice, and not wanting to wear the same clothes again after he showered, he hesitantly made his way into Harry’s room.

Candles. Fucking candles everywhere. The smell hit him abruptly as soon as he stepped through the door, and he expected to find them all lit or something. Instead, they were stacked neatly along one wall, three deep and five high. A few were scattered on a dresser, a box of them slid half under the bed, and a single one on the bedside table. Floral, musky, nutty, vanilla and grass all melded together almost unbearably. He was surprised the scents hadn’t permeated into the rest of the apartment. Yet, none were lit, all just packaged up and labeled, sitting brand new. Looking closer, each one had some words on it, and a picture took up the majority of the label. There only seemed to be a few types, based on the pictures, and they were stacked accordingly. 

“Weirdo,” Louis grumbled, covering his nose, and finally turning his attention to what he came for. In the dresser, he definitely found clothes, but knew for certain that all of them were going to be too large on him. He had wide hips, at least, so when he found drawstring pajama pants he scooped them up, hoping that he’d just be able to tie them around his waist to fit. A tee shirt did just fine as well, only leaving him to opt out of underwear. That was one thing he wasn’t going to borrow, fine to go without. 

Heading back to the bathroom, he also went ahead and mooched off of the other’s shampoo and things. Not like he had anything else to use, but it was something he would usually get in trouble for. His other owner usually got him the cheap things, or insisted he just went without, but Louis couldn’t help but want to use the nicer soaps and be a little cleaner. Just like the candles, and the smell of Harry’s jacket, the soap and shampoo he used was musky and smelled a little like the woods. It was nice. Different from the irritating odor of Axe.

Afterwards, once he was dressed, he heard the trill of the house phone ringing in the kitchen. Harry had told him that he’d call to remind him when to take his medication, so he hurried over to answer it. Sure enough, after saying his greeting, he heard the easy voice of Harry on the other end.

“Hey, Lou. Time to take your medication. Did I wake you up?” The other asked quietly, as if he didn’t want to speak loudly to a freshly woken person.

“No, I’ve been up. Thanks,” Louis hummed back, his finger already moving towards the red button to hang up, not anticipating much of a conversation.

“Good, so, just take your pills then… Also, a friend of mine is coming over later, but I’ll be home by then, alright? Just letting you know. I’m stopping by the store and I’ll be home by.. Well, before it’s dark. And don’t forget, these are your last pills. There are some left but don’t take anymore, the doctor said it’s time you wean off of them now.” Harry explained, trailing off before he finally finished. “Yep, that’s all. Bye, sleep well.”

“Thanks, bye,” Louis murmured, hanging up and sighing. Conversation, even short bits, weren’t exactly his strong suit. Casual talk wasn’t something he was used to. Harry seemed to like doing it, though, so he’d at least put up with it. 

Hearing about Harry’s friend wasn’t the best news. Already, he was feeling overwhelmed with interactions with other people, having met and talked to many more than he really ever had. Usually, if his owner had any guests over, he’d just hide off in the bedroom whether he was told to or not. Interaction with strangers just wasn’t something he enjoyed, and he didn’t feel much like delving into any more. On top of that, he felt like a mess. His hair just wouldn’t sit right, the fur on his tail was thick and thin here and there, and the clothes he was wearing didn’t even fit him. Sighing, he made his way back to the couch, gathering his medication and taking it.

A few hours passed, and after a nap, he woke to see the sky out the window was starting to turn shades of oranges and reds behind the clouds, and tiny snowflakes fell and melted against the ground outside. Letting him know the time was coming when Harry’s friend would be coming over. First, at least, Harry would be home, and not long after he turned the television on did he hear the front door unlocking. Looking over, he saw the tall man enter, who met eyes with him and smiled. 

“Hey, you’re up. Oh…” Harry trailed off, looking Louis over. “Sorry, I should have gotten you some clothes today. I forgot about that. I don’t mind you borrowing mine, though. Do they fit okay?”

Louis glanced down at himself, having forgotten that he’d taken the clothes. “They’re fine,” he answered with a shrug, and peered at the shopping bags the other was carrying. 

Removing his jacket and shoes, Harry made his way in, going to the couch and sitting on the opposite end. Keeping a distance between them. “These are for you,” he explained, setting the bags down in the space, and taking the items inside out one at a time. “I’ve never taught anyone anything before, but this should be a good place to start. Alphabet, first, and some picture books. With animals and those things. We’ll just see if it works out.” The books were all brightly colored, boldly lettered. Others were soft, clearly for writing in, with empty practice lines. “Blank papers, too. And I got some markers. Don’t worry about messing anything up, I can always get more. So just go crazy.”

Harry stood up, and yawned, stretching his arms in front of him. “Liam should be here soon. Hopefully he’ll bring Niall. They’re just coming to say hi and bring dinner, it was going to be a house warming but I guess it’s more of a meet-and-greet now. Sorry, am I overwhelming you?”

Louis had sat quietly on the couch through the chatter, one hand picking at his tail, the other paging gently through one of the books. Shrugging, he answered, “No, whatever. I’m fine with it.” He wasn’t, but there was nothing he would do about it. Not like he was just going to insist that Harry shouldn’t bring his friends over. 

“If you say so,” Harry hummed, before wandering off to the kitchen, leaving Louis to himself. While the other snacked, Louis peeked through the books. Some were colored pictures with words under them, others just big singular letters with practice lines alongside. He could tell it was meant for hybrids much younger than him, which didn’t help much with his self-esteem. Lots of the pages were little illustrations of young hybrids pointing at things, demonstrating, in general just showing to him that he was far too old to be learning this for the first time. Regardless, there was no time like the present, and he knew there was no point in wasting more of his time by pining over it. So while Harry cooked something up, he picked up a marker and went at the first practice book he found.

A A A A -- He wrote it over and over, but no matter how much he wrote it, he realized quickly that it held no meaning to him. Even though the shape was growing familiar, he had no idea how it was pronounced or what it was called. After two lines filled with scribbling the shape, he sighed, and resigned back to just glancing through the books instead of pointlessly writing the letter.

Not long after, the doorbell rang, and Louis’ head shot up. He glanced at the door, then turned to Harry, who was making his way out of the kitchen towards the door already. The other seemed oblivious of him, just humming as he headed towards the door. Making a hasty decision, Louis gathered a few of the books around him, and stood up quickly, heading towards Harry’s room. Usually, he’d try to hide off in the room he begrudgingly shared with his old owner, so even though this one wasn’t established as being his at all he would set up camp there. Just when he heard the front door opening, he was closing the bedroom door, glancing around for somewhere to sit.

Stupid candle wall it was. It was the wall furthest from the door, and it offered a cozy place between the candles and the bed that sat center in the room. So he went over, set his things on the carpet and sat down. 

It lasted all of two minutes before he heard a call of, “Niall, don’t intrude!” And the next thing was the bedroom door opening. 

There stood an eager, blonde hybrid, eyes scanning the room with urgency, bouncing on his heels. Louis immediately ducked lower behind the bed, well timed with another call of “Niall! Don’t be rude, please!” Along with quick footsteps heading to the bedroom. “Leave him alone for now, maybe you’ll meet him in a minute.”

“But Liam,” he heard a whiny voice reply, but the door shut again anyways and it all became muffled sounds of chatter again. Letting out a sigh of relief, Louis sat straight again, returning to his task of scribbling unfamiliar letters on the pages. 

After that, it was a while before he was disturbed. From the living room he could hear murmured conversations, louder ones and laughing, and the quiet idle sound of the television. Shutting it out, he was able to glance through most of the books. He was even starting to understand one of the letters- C was paired with a picture of a cat, and if he was right, then the letters went in order of how the word was pronounced. So that curled shape made the sound from the beginning of cat. C C C he wrote, proud, though hesitant to assume too quickly that he was right.

When the door next opened, he looked up to see it was Harry entering this time. “Hey, Lou,” the other chimed, looking a little more chipper and voice a little higher than usual. “Why don’t you come out for a minute, say hello?” Cheeks pink and a smile on his face, Harry stepped over to Louis, making a glad sound when he saw what the cat was working on. “Oh, see! You’ve got it, that’s C. For cat, good job, you’re pretty smart. And you’re writing great!”

Wow. Wow wow, that felt pretty good, Louis thought, his thumb twiddling with the marker in his hand. Praise wasn’t something he got often, if ever, no, probably never. “Thanks…” Louis mumbled, looking down at his work with a little more pride than before.

“Want to come out here, then? You can bring it with you, if you want.” It wasn’t an invitation Louis would usually accept, but… Harry was being so nice, congratulating him on good work, and the feline felt a little happier than before to join in. 

Closing the book, with the marker set in the page to keep his place, he nodded, and stood up. “Okay,” he said, carrying the book with him.

“Great! I’ll be with you, don’t worry. They’re really nice.” Harry walked right in front of him, leading the way back out to the living room. 

Two people sat on the couch, and both faces were turned to look at him immediately. Louis quickly started to regret coming out- the last thing he wanted was to be stared at. 

One was the hybrid from before. Bright eyed, and he heard the thumping of a wagging tail hitting the couch. Blonde and brunette tipped ears stuck out from his hair, pointed eagerly towards him, and everything about this hybrid- Niall, he guessed- just seemed to radiate energy. The voice that burst out confirmed that, with an eager greeting of, “Hi! I’m Niall! Nice to meet you!” It seemed like the other was doing all he could to not just jump out of his seat, and the hand of the person next to him on his shoulder helped to keep him down. 

“I’m Liam, nice to meet you, Louis,” the man welcomed, smiling gently, though his eyes read as just as excited as his dog. 

Louis sighed, but raised his hand to wave quietly at them, reverting to his usual greeting for strangers. One thing struck him soon after he had walked in, the smell of alcohol, all too familiar. On the table were two bottles of wine, and three glasses, all in various stages of being finished. 

All of his experience with alcohol was negative. It just meant getting drunk, anger, messiness. He glanced at Harry, who returned it with a smile. Surprised he hadn’t noticed it before, the man’s cheeks were pink with tipsiness, the smile on his face probably just a false remnant of the wine in his belly. “Why are you all drinking?” He muttered with a grimace on his face, watching as Harry’s grin faltered.

“Ah, what do you mean? I’m sorry, does it bother you…?” Harry questioned in a whisper, shifting his weight on his feet.

“Well, I… Why are you doing it? It’s just going to make you mad, so why?” Drinking had a clear line of progression in Louis’ mind. First it was tipsy, where his owner would sing along happily to songs on the radio, cook a meal in the kitchen, ignore Louis for a bit, occasionally even roughly scratch his head. Next was when his owner would start to get drunk, when he’d get gruff about his own mess in the kitchen, stumble off to the bathroom, barely able to walk, shouting at the footie match on the television. When he was wasted, then was the real anger, throwing things and screaming, hitting, telling Louis off for every thing imaginable. It would only end when his owner passed out somewhere. There was no in between, no night where it would end fine with just casual drinking and happy talks. And upon coming here, and passing two nights without the stench of alcohol burning his nose, he was hopeful that it was just another thing only his old owner did. 

“Oh, Lou,” Harry sighed, glancing at his friends before moving to gently usher Louis back towards the bedroom. Hesitantly, the cat went, glancing behind his as Harry followed him in. “Here, sit,” he offered, gesturing at the bed and sitting down on the edge of it himself. Once Louis was seated, leaving a gap in between them and his book in his lap, Harry turned to face him.

“Louis, drinking isn’t always bad. When you do it with friends, and you don’t have too much, it’s just for fun. There’s nothing to be worried about,” Harry explained quietly, offering Louis another gentle smile. “If it makes you uncomfortable, though, we won’t have any more tonight. Sound good?”

The cat had sat listening, plucking at the corner of his book. There was no reason not to believe Harry- the man had yet to lie to him once, and he doubted he would start now. Even his old owner had enough decency not to get too furious when guests were around, so at least for now he saw no reason to be too worried. So he nodded, “Okay,” and got back up.

Harry’s smile grew wider again, chirping, “Great! Now let’s go properly meet them. And don’t worry, they’re the least judgemental people in the world. Nothing to worry about.”

Louis shrugged, but followed Harry back out to the living room, where he was faced with Liam and Niall again. He waved once more, glancing at the floor, deciding to let someone else start a conversation. First, though, Harry was making his way to the table, scooping up all the one glasses but one. “Liam, come to the kitchen with me? We’ll heat up that dinner,” he suggested, then looked to Niall. “Stay here and keep Louis company for me.” 

He picked up the bottle of wine, but rather than carry it away, he poured it into the last glass on the table. Nearly filling it, he stepped back, and carried the bottle with him to the kitchen. After setting all of the items down there, he came back, and handed the glass to Louis, who grimaced. “Have it if you want to. You don’t have to, but you can if it’ll help you feel better about it,” he said, his hand momentarily resting on Louis’ before he walked back off to the kitchen, Liam following with him.

Staring down at the glass for a moment, Louis finally made his way over to the couch. Niall was sat on the right, so he went to the left, sitting down stiffly. He set his book between them, and cradled the glass in both hands.

Despite appearing a little calmer, and being quieter, the dog hybrid was still clearly holding down a load of excitement. His tail still thumped against the couch, and his ears were perked up eagerly. He was turned towards Louis, who glanced over to see him staring.

“Hi,” Niall greeted again, smiling at him.

With a sigh, Louis resolved that he was going to at least try to be nice- like Harry does. “Hello,” he hummed, tapping his fingers against the glass in his hand.

“Have you never had wine before?” The other asked him, prompting the cat to look down at the translucent red liquid in his lap. Louis shook his head, wrinkling his nose.

“No,” he responded gruffly, still unsure if he was going to drink any of it at all.

“Try a sip!” The dog said eagerly, now smiling goofily. “Just taste it with your tongue, it’s really sweet. At least, this one is, not all of them are. And this one is called sweet red cat! It’s meant for you, try it try it try it-”

“Fine,” Louis interrupted, glad to just not have the other continue to nag at him. Alcohol always had a sharp, gross smell, at least the whiskey and vodka that his owner always drank did. This one still smelled like alcohol, but once he held it to his nose, it also had a scent of fruit juice and sugar. Hesitantly, he stuck out his tongue, not welcome to the idea of giving it a sip yet. As soon as the tip of his tongue touched it, he drew back, swallowing the little drop he’d gotten. It was really sweet- almost too sweet, a lot like a really sugary juice.

“Well? How is it?” Niall asked excitedly, which Louis returned with a shrug.

“It’s pretty good, I guess. Will it… If I drink it, could it make me throw up?” He’d seen his owner puke ten too many times when he drank, and definitely didn’t want that happening to him.

This just got a giggle out of Niall, who shook his head. “No, no, you’ll only throw up if you drink too much. Just drink it slowly if you want, but one glass is fine. Even if Harry gave you a really full glass.”

With a nod, Louis gave the glass a sip, and pondered over the sweet taste for a minute. Afterwards, to try and avoid any awkward conversation, he picked up the television remote. Changing the channel to the cartoon one that he liked, he settled back in the seat, and relaxed while he drank his wine. 

It felt rebellious to him. Even if Harry had quite gladly given it to him, and he was encouraged to drink it, it felt good to be the one to have a bit of alcohol. Thinking of his old owner alone at home, probably drunk and furious, while Louis sat cozy and sipping sugary wine was quite liberating. At first it felt wrong, like it was the last thing he should want to do, but now he knew it was the surest sign of his freedom so far. Plus, he wouldn’t be a mess about it. He would still be upright and dignified when he had his glass, not a humiliating slob.

\---

Pink-cheeked and buzzed was not something Louis ever expected to be, but an hour later he surely was. The full glass, being his first drink in his life, left him feeling warm and- even more uncharacteristically- chatty.

“She’s totally evil, I don’t know what you’re on about,” Louis stated boldly, gesturing with his empty glass at the television. “I mean, she left her in the garden for, like, six thousand years.”

“But it’s deeper than that, she didn’t know it was wrong,” Niall replied, though Louis was quick to interject.

“Not at first! But, later on, she totally knew she should’ve gone back, but she still left her there! I say that’s evil,” he decided with a nod. Before Niall could respond, another voice joined the conversation. 

“Aren’t you two getting along,” the humming voice of Harry interrupted. Louis looked over his shoulder to see both Harry and Liam coming back into the room, both holding two plates piled with hot food. As Harry approached the couch, he gestured at the space left in between the two hybrids. “Alright if I sit here?” He asked, and Louis nodded, gathering his book and setting it on the table with his glass. Once Harry had sat, with Liam on the floor in front of the coffee table, the plates were distributed with forks.

“Wow, looks good,” Louis murmured, seeing a large cubicle of food in the middle. It looked much like lasagna, but made up of mashed potato, ground meat, with peas and carrots. Sure enough, when he tried it, it was warm and greasy and filling. It made him feel even toastier and cosier than he already did with his belly full of wine. Everyone seemed to feel the same way, all staying quiet and just eagerly eating their meals. 

Not long after they all finished, Liam and Niall said their goodbyes, and were soon gone for the evening. Left alone now, Harry shut the door behind them and then turned to smile at Louis, who was still sat on the couch. “Did you have a good time? I was really worried you might not warm up to Niall, I know he’s a little eager.”

Though he was biting his nails, Louis nodded, “Yeah, it was good. We watched a movie.” Harry rejoined him on the couch, still sitting in the middle although Niall was gone.

“What was it about?” Harry asked gently, setting his elbow on the back of the couch so he could rest his head in his hand and face Louis comfortably. 

“Well… It’s a long story, ‘cause it’s based off a show.” Louis shrugged, fiddling with his tail, wondering if Harry would put up with such mindless chatter for so long.

“Try me, I’ll listen. How about another glass of wine since you liked it so much, and you can sit and tell me about it?” 

“Oh,” Louis couldn’t help but to breath, a little surprised that Harry actually wanted to listen to him. “I guess so, yeah. Sure.” With that answer, Harry got up again, going to and returning from the kitchen with a fresh bottle of the same wine. He topped up Louis’ glass again, handed it to him, and sat back down. 

As he first started to talk, Louis was hesitant and a bit shy to explain everything in the show. But ten minutes in, between sips of wine and the interest clear on Harry’s face, he was happier to continue on and elaborate on littler things.

“So, his mom is a diamond? Like the rock?” Harry questioned, managing to draw a bit of a chuckle from Louis. 

“Yeah, but like the other ones. How they’re kind of people. And his dad’s human.”

Fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes passed, chatting casually. Carefree, not tense, not feeling like he was living up to some expectations, Louis was just having a good time. Doing the things he probably should’ve always been allowed to do, but never got a chance. Just talking to someone, without the pressure that he had to do so. He was doing it because he wanted to, drinking wine because he wanted to, watching the shows he liked whenever he damn well pleased, and it felt so good.

“I haven’t been able to watch every episode, it’s usually on when my owner is home so I have to watch re-runs in the morning,” Louis explained, once Harry had asked him about a plot point he wasn’t sure about.

“Aw, Lou... Well, hey, I’ve got Hulu on my laptop. We can check if it’s on there,” the other suggested. The cat’s ears perked up, and he nodded somewhat eagerly, feeling a bit like Niall when he did so. With a smile, Harry got up, going to his bedroom and coming back with his laptop. This time, he sat just a touch closer, their shoulders brushing up as Harry sat the laptop on his legs and started looking through Hulu. “Here we go! Shall we start from the beginning?”

“Mhm,” Louis nodded, pulling his feet up onto the couch and getting comfortable.

Episode after episode, they both sat through it quietly, other than Harry occasionally interjecting to say things like, “Ah, that’s what you told me about.” It felt good to know Harry really had listened to him, and seemed to be enjoying the show as much as he did. 

In between episodes, Louis yawned, and set his now empty wine glass on the table. “Hey, Harry?” He asked, starting to feel comfortable enough to ask him the question that had been nagging him for days.

“Yeah, Lou,” Harry hummed, pausing the video and looking over at him.

“Why do you have so many candles?”

This drew a big laugh from Harry. “Oh, I guess that would seem weird. I make them and sell them online.” 

“They smell. How do you sleep in there?” Louis questioned, wrinkling his nose.

“I think they smell good! Don’t worry, I don’t plan on making anymore until we get all settled in here, so once those are shipped off we’ll be a candle-free home.”

“What a shame, I’m so disappointed,” he feigned in response, chuckling to himself, earning the same little laugh from Harry.

“Look at us, getting to know each other. Are you feeling more comfortable here?” Harry asked, which Louis returned with a nod. “And you like it?” Another nod, definitely making Harry smile. “Good. I’ve lived by myself for a long time, so it feels good to have you here. Anything else you want to know?”

Louis hummed, thinking. “What do you like to watch?”

“Oh, you have me there. I don’t watch much television. Sometimes I watch movies, romances, horror.”

“Oh… Do you want to keep watching, though? This next episode is really good,” Louis hummed, gesturing at the laptop.

“Yep! Let’s go on, then,” Harry agreed, and pressed play to start the show. For a while after that, they sat silently watching, squashed together on the end of the couch. It was cozy, warm, especially after Harry refilled two glasses of wine- one for each of them, and this time Louis was happy to let that slide. His head felt fuzzy, but not too much. He figured having all of his little glasses spread out over the evening was keeping him well off from getting too messy. Instead, he was just toasty and felt quite happy. Having an evening in with nothing to worry about, special treats and a hot meal, and even a bit of non-threatening together time watching his favorite show.

All of this prompted him to ask something even he never thought he’d want to experience. “Do you want to pet me?” He questioned, over the lulling sound of the show.

The question seemed to catch Harry off guard; he blinked, and with a glance at the cat murmured, “I mean, if you’re alright with it.”

“Yeah. I just want to, like, try it, I guess,” Louis shrugged, yet Harry still didn’t seem to budge. “Do… do you not want to anymore?”

“No, no Lou,” Harry insisted, pausing the show and shaking his head. “It just that you’ve had some wine and I’m not sure if it’s alright to do that. You might say yes now and regret it later, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Biting his lip, Louis looked down at his lap. He’d been itching his tail for a while now, and was now twirling some of the fur on his finger. “Oh,” he breathed, quiet.

“Trust me, I’d love to. You’re very cute,” Harry laughed gently, “But- oh, Lou, don’t cry, please. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The cat was a little bent over, Harry having quickly caught on to the little sniffles he had let out. However, Louis shook his head, and even gave out a little chuckle past the tears going down his cheeks. “No, no, you… You’re just ridiculously nice. I cannot believe how damn nice you are.”

“Nothing special, Lou,” the man assured, only earning another shake of Louis’ head.

“You are to me, so whatever. You’re the only person who’s been so nice to me. And I keep trying to figure out, what the hell is wrong with this guy? Why is he so freaking kind? For a minute I kept thinking you were just buttering me up, like maybe later you’d be an ass, but you haven’t. You’re just sitting here watching television and drinking wine with me, and won’t pet me so I won’t be uncomfortable later.”

Harry didn’t answer, so Louis looked up, and saw the other was looking off to space, chewing his lip. “Dang, Lou. You’re going to make me cry, too. You’re really sweet as well. I don’t think you know it yet, but I think you’re really smart, and very brave-”

“Shut it,” Louis drawled, grinning. Really, really smiling, covering his face with his hands. “You’re being too sappy, we both are. Why don’t we stretch the compliments out so we don’t run out for later, and we don’t get fed up hearing what we like about each other?”

Right away, Harry accepted the challenge to keep going. “Ah, and look at that smile! So cute. I haven’t seen you smile that big before. You’re a really happy cat now, aren’t you? Can I keep you smiling, then?”

“Lord! You’re stubborn,” Louis looked up, beaming quite openly now. “So you still won’t pet me?”

“Not a chance,” the other replied, shaking his head.

“Okay, I’ll just do it myself, then.” Louis reached his arms out, and before Harry could move back- not that he tried to- he wrapped his arms around his torso and set his face against his shoulder. Not too long after, Louis felt two big arms wrap right around him.

Just like the jacket he’d given him the first day they met, Harry smelled like perfumey cologne. Warm, his arms holding him gently even though Louis could feel they were firm and strong. If Harry wanted to, he could hurt him. Probably worse than his old owner, because Harry was quite fit and bigger than him. Instead, though, he was just hugging him, one of his big hands now rubbing his back. Not too hard, and not holding him too tightly, mindful that he was still bruised and sore. He didn’t want to move, and he surely wouldn’t be the first one to let go. Apparently Harry had the same mindset, because neither were letting up, keeping wrapped up. Eyes now closed, Louis let out a heavy breath, relaxing himself against the steady form next to him. 

One of the arms around him went away, for a moment worrying him that Harry might let go, but instead he heard the show start up again before the arm was replaced around him. After a second of Harry shifting to turn towards him more, they were both cozy again, and Louis could relax. Really relax, because he felt safe. There was no reason to worry about Harry holding him, rubbing his back slowly. This was his new safe place. He didn’t need to be alone to feel secure, and until Harry proved him wrong, this was the safest and happiest he would be.

So he fell asleep like that, drifting off on Harry’s chest to the sound of his heart thumping and the laptop chattering softly. 


	5. Trip Out... Then Right Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little too much happens in this one sorry
> 
> Warning for the usual for this story- mention of abuse, panic attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you guys thought you were rid of me, but here I am, back again. Another long chapter to make up for my hiatus. I actually had this chapter mostly done a while ago, but I lost access to my google docs for a minute and was too frustrated about it to rewrite. Got the documents back so I finally finished it! A lot happens in this one so be ready for some heavy reading.

“Lou-Lou,” a husky voice called gently, slipping into the cat’s sleeping mind. The lulling tone was unfamiliar and sweet. Not something he’d been called before, but whatever voice had produced the name made him want to purr. “Louis, time to wake up,” the honey whisper said again, making Louis hum. What finally woke him was a gentle jostle of his shoulder, bringing the cat to awareness until he sat up a little suddenly and blinked open his eyes.

Harry drew his hand away after Louis jumped a bit, but smiled to him pleasantly as the cat registered where he was and yawned. “Hey, good morning. Sorry to wake you, I just have to go to the bathroom and didn’t want to just shove you off,” Harry explained, while Louis nodded a bit and rubbed his eyes. He had a terrible headache, and while initially he was unsure of why, it struck him soon enough. His old owner all too often had complained about being ‘hungover’ and how his head hurt like hell. While it wasn’t the worst headache he’d ever had, it was certainly unpleasant, and so far was the worst part of his personal wine binge the night before.

“What time is it?” Louis asked, opening his eyes fully to finally look around the room, seeing sunlight coming in the window. “Don’t you work?”

“It’s ten. Not today, it’s Saturday. Thought it would be a good day to do some shopping, get you clothes and things. Lucky for us I got paid yesterday,” he chuckled, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. They’d slept mostly sat up, so both were sore. Somehow, though, despite how sore Louis’ neck and shoulders now were from the awkward sleeping position, it was still nice. Sleeping that way was still so comfortable, warm, cozy. He’d do it again if he had a chance, even though he used to share a bed unwillingly. With Harry, he’d initiated it, and genuinely enjoyed it.

“One other thing, though,” Harry sighed, apparently not too happy about this part. “We have to go to the police station later and follow up the report your vet made.”

Louis nodded slowly, looking at his hands. “Oh… What do I have to do?”

“Well, they’ll ask you a lot of questions. You’ll have to tell them more than you did the other day. Either way I thought we should go shopping first, get you freshened up and a little happier to go. Sound okay?”

With a nod, Louis agreed, although he was definitely not happy about it. He wasn’t much of a talk-about-my-problems type of person. Other than his old owner, Harry was the only person in the world he had spoken to so much in his life, and even he didn’t know about everything. Yet more strangers asking about things he never talked about. 

“Okay,” Harry breathed, though even he sounded unsure. Louis had made it obvious he wasn’t much of a personal problem negotiator. “Let’s go get ready for our day then.” With that, Harry turned, strolling towards his room. “You can have the bathroom first, let me find you something to wear.”  
Finally, Louis got up, stretching his arms out in front of him and then above his head. The area around the couch was a bit of a mess- empty glasses and wine bottles on the table, the laptop and a ruffled blanket on the floor, television still turned on but muted while playing the morning news. While Harry got him clothes, he resolved to clean it up. It felt better to do it this way, not being told to, just cleaning it because it was his mess too and didn’t want to leave it that way. Not for Harry to clean up later, when he was so kind to even let him be here. So he folded the blanket, leaving it neatly on the couch, and turned off the television. He gathered the dirty glasses and empty bottle, taking them to the kitchen. After tossing the bottle and washing the glasses, he went back out to the living room just as Harry came back.

“Oh, thanks, Lou. You didn’t have to clean up,” the tall man hummed with a smile, shrugging before holding out some folded clothes towards Louis. “Here, these are a little too tight on me so I think they’ll fit you better. All clean, so are the underwear, so don’t worry.” With a nod, Louis took the clothes, going to the bathroom.

He wanted to take a quick shower, unable to help that he was a little excited to go shopping. He’d never been, at least not for himself. Just a few times his owner took him to the grocery store, only when Louis apparently couldn’t be trusted alone at home, especially when he was younger, when he was flighty and tried to run away a few times. Those trips were never fun. He was always held firmly by the wrist, dragged around while his owner bought things for himself, alcohol, cigarettes. But not this time. This trip would be for him, to make him happy, like Harry wanted him to be.

Harry wanted him to be happy, and that thought alone was lifting him up from the hole he felt he’d been in.

The shower took longer than he planned, having been slowly massaging shampoo through his tail. Head full of thoughts and feelings that didn’t make him sad, making him want to just stand there and keep thinking, running his fingers through soapy fur. 

When he finally got out and dressed, he stepped out of the bathroom to find Harry waiting on the couch. Playing on his phone, until he heard Louis walking up behind him. He turned, smiling at him, “Ready to go? Get your coat on, too, it’s really cold outside. We got some snow. Yeah, let me get us some gloves.” Louis followed him to the door, where Harry went through a box sitting next to it until he found some. “Well, how about you take the mittens since I’m driving?”

After Louis nodded, and both had all their winter gear on; coats, mittens for Louis and gloves for Harry, and their shoes, they left. The car ride was quiet, other than Harry telling him they were going somewhere called ‘Primark’.

“It’s nothing fancy, a little cheap to be honest. But that way we can get you plenty of new clothes instead of just a few fancy ones. And they have a hybrid section. Especially because you need all the basics, you know, socks, underwear, shirts and pants.”

God, he felt like a spoiled kitten like some of the ones he’d seen on television. The hybrids owned by big celebrities that were pranced around, looking pretty and happy. At the time he thought those hybrids were the outliers, the only ones who weren’t treated like crap. Sure, he wasn’t exactly going to be wearing designer clothes or being displayed on television and in magazines, but he couldn’t help but feel pampered. At least treated like he was worth decent clothes, a safe home, a cuddle while watching his favorite show, held while he fell asleep, Harry’s comforting smell wrapped around him, in all of his clothes and everywhere in his home…

“Lou? We’re here, you having a nap?” Louis was taken out of his reverie by Harry’s voice, opening his eyes, not having even realized he was laid against the window just wondering at his luck. “Ready to go?”

Nodding, Louis rubbed a mittened hand over his eyes, then both of them got out of the car. Downtown Redditch was a foreboding area he was barely familiar with. The hybrid shelter was around here somewhere, and what he remembered most was already striking him as he got out of the car. It was loud, and the sidewalk in front of the building was bustling with people out for weekend shopping and sightseeing. Even the lot they were in was a bit busy, people walking to and from cars talking excitedly. Louis hurried around the car, catching up to Harry to walk next to him towards the massive building. It was white, covered with windows, at least three stories tall. 

People everywhere, more than he’d really ever been confronted with. At the shelter, sure, there were loads of hybrids, but they were all separated. Here, as he and Harry walked in, everyone was walking within inches of each other, all chattering and some little kids shouting, gesturing hands swinging wildly, bags swinging, overwhelming stimulation. It felt like his heart was beating too quickly, he was getting a headache, and before he knew it he was walking with his tail between his legs and desperately trying to keep as close to Harry as he could without tripping him.

Harry looked over at him, and it seemed to strike him that Louis wasn’t very comfortable at all. “Oh, Lou, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, probably the quietest voice Louis had heard in the whole building. Now that they were inside, voices seemed to echo, every footfall clattering on the linoleum floors. 

“It’s loud,” Louis responded, “And busy.”

“What can I do to help?”

Harry’s response made his heart skip, the consideration for his well being almost cheering him back up. They were standing still now, facing each other, other people having to go around them in the walkway. He thought, not sure for a minute what could make him feel better. He almost wanted to just go back, go lay on the couch and not do any shopping. At the same time, though, he wanted to do this. Do something normal, that everyone else did, and enjoy himself. Buy things for himself, and do it with Harry.

“Can you hold my hand?”

Harry seemed to let out a breath, just as a smile slipped on his face. “Of course I can.”

Even through the mitten, Louis could feel the firm and warm grip of Harry’s hand as he took it. The other gave it a little squeeze, with another smile, before going on to lead the way through the mall. Now, it felt easier. It was still loud, but at least this way he didn’t feel so overwhelmed. He wasn’t going to get lost or too far from Harry, because he was anchored on by their hands. Not being gripped tightly by his wrist, like his old owner might have, just held gently by his mittened hand.

Before he knew it they were in the store, out of the busy walkways of the mall. Inside, it was quieter, the noise of people dulled by soft music. Racks upon racks of clothes, from wall to wall. After grabbing a basket, Harry turned straight to the left, where sure enough Louis saw photos displayed on the wall of male hybrid models, posing cutely and laughing. “Here we go,” Harry chimed, seeming just as happy as Louis that they had made it there. “So, let’s focus on what you need most, then we’ll find the fun things.”

Gathering the essentials was easy- underwear and socks, just briefs and crew-lengths picked out based on Louis’ judgment of the colors. For the most part he opted for greys and blacks, which got that done quickly. 

“What colors do you like to wear?” Harry asked, his hand brushing over blue and green jumpers.

“Uhm… I don’t know,” Louis sighed. He’d never had choice of his clothing. Maybe he could just settle for the usual, the colors Harry was already looking at, the dull shades that usually ended up in his drawers.

No, he wanted something different, something new and pretty, the cute and colorful things the models were wearing. “Pink, like that,” he explained, pointing up at the picture on the wall. A freckled skinned, pretty cat hybrid, curled up in a millenial pink jumper, half-tucked into soft grey sweatpants.

“Pink? Ah, okay. It is cute, huh?” Glancing around, Harry spotted a rack that seemed like it may suit what Louis wanted more, and led the way there. “I think you’d fit a medium. Just grab what you like.” He took a step back, let go of Louis’ hand, and gave him the freedom to pick.

With a little hesitation, the hybrid bit his lip before starting to thumb through the hangers. The first thing he picked out was the jumper he saw in the picture. “Which is medium?” He murmured, glancing back at Harry.

“Oh, here,” the other hummed, coming up and putting his finger against a letter displayed on the hanger. “This letter here, this is an M. See, up, down, up, down, like that. It’ll always be the big letter in the middle of the tag. Anything you see with that is your size. We’ll practice it later.”

“Okay,” Louis responded quickly, and within a moment he had descended on the racks again. He found the right size for his pink sweater, then a mustard yellow one that he thought had the same exciting pop of color that he wanted. There were all different shades of the pastels he was leaning towards, like baby blues and light sages. He picked a few tee shirts, cozy jumpers and hoodies for the cold weather, then sweatpants and some shorts to wear inside.

When he got to the jeans, he pondered a moment over the size on the tag, but couldn’t find the M. Harry noticed his confusion, and looked up from his phone that he’d been occupying himself with. “Ah, those sizes are different. Let me think,” he hummed thoughtfully, looking at a few pairs himself. “You want these black ones, right?” After Louis confirmed with a nod, he chose a pair for him, saying, “These ones will fit. You could wear them when we go to make your report later, they’ll look nice on you. Are you all ready to go?”

“Yep,” Louis announced, looking down at the hooks of the clothes hangers dangling on his arm. “All ready.”

Harry nodded back, and ushered for him to follow him to the checkout. They laid everything out on the counter, and once the clerk had scanned everything, Harry paid and the clerk put it all in bags. Louis couldn’t help but feel her eyes on him- she seemed to keep glancing at him, with her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. As she finished bagging everything up, Harry asked, “Is it okay if he changes in the dressing room? He wants to wear it out.”

“Sure, that’s fine, over there,” she agreed, gesturing towards a corridor in the back after handing Harry the bags.

With a thank you, Louis followed Harry there, twiddling his thumbs excitedly. He was happy to be able to get dressed up, look nice- undoubtedly this was going to be the newest and nicest clothes he’d ever worn. Usually he got hand-me-downs, or clothes bought from second hand shops. Nothing wrong with them, but it was special to get new things instead. He was let into a stall by a clerk, and after the door was shut, Harry called, “I’ll be right out here. Make sure you dress warm, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis responded, before re-evaluating the things in the bag and making his decisions. Of course, he opted for the pink sweater that he’d liked so much, and Harry had already confirmed that one looked cute. Then the jeans, but he kept on his original socks and underwear as he would want to wash them first. It all fit perfectly- he was used to wearing more baggy things, not really suited for someone his size. He stuffed all the clothes into the bags, and just as he stepped out and was putting his mittens back on, he looked up to see a police officer talking to Harry in front of a further stall.

“No, you don’t understand, we were on our way-” Harry was explaining, looking stern and defensive, different than the usual soft look he had on his face around Louis.

Nervously, Louis stood still for a minute, biting his lip. Finally, he stepped forward a bit, calling, “Harry?” He had already been nervous about talking to police officers today, and now there was one that didn’t look happy with Harry. However, when the two men looked over at him, both of their faces softened.

Harry looked relieved, and said, “He’ll tell you.”

The officer said something into a radio on his shoulder, but stayed next to Harry, giving Louis a smile. “Wait for just a moment, alright?” He requested, and while Louis would usually not argue with being bossed around, especially by a stranger, he wasn’t in the mood to be left in the dark.

“Why?” He asked, already coming right up, standing in front of the officer. The man moved a bit to the side, as if blocking Harry off from him. His moment of bravery dwindled seeing this, his mind racing with what this could mean. Were they taking him away from him? Did his old owner list him as lost and order him back? Or did they think Harry did something wrong? The officer looked so angry at Harry, like he was accusing him of something. And Louis wasn’t going to put up with that, when he knew Harry was so nice. Whatever it was, the policeman was wrong, and there was no way he would just wait and let Harry get arrested.

“Why? I want to know why,” he demanded, getting a little angrier now. He was about to make another comment, but just then, another officer came down the corridor, looking at Louis with sympathy in his eyes. Louis put his bags on the floor, and crossed his arms with a frown on his face.

“I want to go with Harry, you don’t have to make me do anything I don’t want to do,” he stated defiantly, recalling the phrase Harry had told him just the other day.

The new officer shook his head, saying, “No, pal, you don’t. We just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Here, step back a bit-”

“No! Why the hell should I? I don’t want to,” he huffed, earning a chuckle from Harry that he heard behind the officers.

“Alright, that’s okay,” the officer reluctantly agreed. “My name is Pat, and someone called us and said you looked like someone may have hurt you. Can you tell me why you have bruises on your face?”

It struck Louis what was going on, and suddenly he understood why Harry wasn’t as angry as he was. “Oh,” he sighed, feeling relieved. “It wasn’t Harry, it was my old owner. Harry’s taking me to the police station to make a…”

“A report,” Harry called out.

“Yeah, a report. I had a concussion and so we had to wait until today,” he explained, tail flicking with satisfaction behind him. The two officers looked at each other, and one of them spoke into his radio again.

He asked Louis for his name, and for a minute the two men stood speaking quietly into their radios. It made the cat a little bit nervous, but he was happy with himself for dealing with the situation. In fact, it surprised him that he did. A few days ago he would never have done that, stood up to officers accusing his owner of something in a crowded mall. Yet, here he was, standing to defend him, not wanting Harry to get into any trouble or be talked down to by a policeman. 

“Okay, sorry about that,” the original policeman said, separating himself from the space between Louis and Harry. “We just wanted to be sure everything was alright here. The station says you have an appointment there, so you guys are all good to go.”

With a sigh of relief, Louis hurried back to Harry, and seemed to surprise even him when he threw his arms around him in a hug. He felt Harry wrap his arms up around him, giving his back a pat and saying to the officers, “No problem, I understand. We’re heading over there now.” After hearing the officers walk away, Louis pulled back from the hug, taking another sigh.

“You alright?” Harry asked, looking down at him. “See, you’re really brave. Don’t take crap from anyone, do you?” He hummed, smiling down at him.

Seeing the other smile did make him feel better, so Louis nodded, “No way.”

Laughing, Harry finally let his arms down, and bent over to pick up Louis’ shopping bags for him. “Ready to go?” Once he got a nod to confirm, he led the way out of the store, back out to the lot to the car. This time, Louis wasn’t so anxious to walk through the busy mall. Harry held his hand, and just like he usually felt around him, he felt safe. 

Even though they were headed somewhere he was less than excited to go to.

\---

The drive was not as peaceful as the one on the way to the mall. Louis held his tail in his hands, picking at some of the little hairs that were growing out of patches that had been ripped out. He felt like he needed to try to remember as much as he could, tell them everything he could. But how far back should he go? Was this just going to be about the other night, his concussion, the bruises? Or would it be further back? When his owner broke his finger two years ago, and he couldn’t even recall how many concussions he’d probably had. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten knocked out.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice took him out of his thoughts, and he continued, “Try not to pick at your tail, it’ll stop itching when it grows back.” Louis looked over and him and nodded, flicking his tail back to his side. Harry sighed, giving him a short glance, sympathy in his eyes. “Don’t be too nervous. Did you see how the police officers are good people? They came to check on you because they were worried about you. They want you to be okay too, so you don’t have to be scared of them.”

It made sense to Louis when he thought about it. He shouldn’t be scared to talk to them, because it was their job to keep him safe and keep bad people away. People like his owner, who would hurt him, and he could tell them about it and they would keep him safe. “I’m not nervous. I mean, I guess I am, but… I just don’t know what to tell them. What’s it going to be like?”

“Well, they’ll ask you questions and you just answer them. You don’t have to try to come up with everything on your own, because they’ll ask you everything they need to know,” Harry answered, which did help to relieve some of Louis’ nerves. As long as he would be prompted about what to say, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard. Continuing, the other said, “And when you’re done, I’ll be there waiting for you.”

“What? What do you mean?” Louis asked insistently, looking over at him. “Waiting for me?”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Harry breathed, running his free hand over his hair before answering, “I can’t be in there with you. When you talk to police officers like that, you have to be by yourself.”

“Why? I don’t want to go alone, I want to go with you. Where will I be?” Fear was starting to grip him a bit- this whole time, Louis had been thinking that at least Harry would be with him, the one person he knew for sure would keep him safe and protect him. It was keeping him calm about this whole thing and he didn’t want to be alone.

“That’s… that’s really sweet, Louis, and I appreciate you trusting me like that, but it’s not a choice. Remember how the vet said some things are illegal? Things people aren’t allowed to do?” Once Louis gave a slow nod of understanding, Harry clarified, “There are things they have to do to make sure that you’re comfortable telling the truth. So, let’s say your old owner was in there with you, would you tell the truth?”

Louis looked outside, seeing Harry was already parking in a spot in front of the police station. He didn’t have much longer, but he didn’t want to go in yet. However, he swallowed his fear and told him, “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Right. So, to make sure you can say whatever you need to say, you have to be by yourself. That way they know you can tell them everything and you won’t be afraid to tell them.”

“But, but… You didn’t do anything, we’re not talking about you,” he insisted, hoping this would make it better.

“Right, I understand. But it’s because I could influence what you say. It’s complicated, I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier,” Harry sighed, turning off the car.

Louis huffed, crossing his arms, his mind already racing again. He trusted Harry, and there was no one else he could do that with. He was the only person in the world he knew so well. Apparently other hybrids could just walk around and feel safe, but Louis couldn’t. He knew it wasn’t possible. “Yeah, you should’ve! I’m not doing it!” He exclaimed, curling his whole body up in his seat despite knowing they needed to go in. “I won’t do it!”

Harry looked over, and reached out to touch Louis’ arm, drawing back when the cat flinched back and scooted away from him. “Louis, please, don’t be scared. I know this isn’t familiar but-”

“But nothing! How could you do this? You know I’m scared, and I’m embarrassed to say it but you know I am! I know everyone else can do it but I can’t, I can’t I can’t I can’t,” Louis repeated, his breathing getting fast and panicked, tears pricking at his eyes. “I can’t do it, please don’t make me. Please.” He couldn’t recall all those memories again with another stranger, people he didn’t know. Harry would take care of him, but he didn’t know the police officers. They could be bad, they could be upset with him, he didn’t want to be locked in a room with them by himself. Telling them about how many times he’d gotten beaten up just because he didn’t think he should tell anyone.

“Louis, calm down, please don’t panic,” Harry murmured, taking off his seatbelt and leaning towards him. He kept his distance, having already noticed that Louis didn’t seem like he wanted to be touched.

“I can’t do it by myself, I don’t know anybody else, you know that, you know,” the cat breathed, starting to realize he was hyperventilating a little. For him, it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling- more than once, he’d felt certain that his owner was about to beat him to death, or felt so anxious about the man coming home that something like this would happen. But still, and he didn’t know why, every time he felt a deep fear in himself, as if he really thought he was going to die. Like the world was falling apart around him, and because he didn’t have control of it, all he could do was sit there and panic. He could barely catch his breath, but still managed to gasp out some words. “If I go in there by myself, I don’t know what to do, what if something happens, Harry, please,” he begged, tears now streaming down his face, rolling down his chin and dripping on his jeans.

“Louis, what… What’s wrong, why are you so scared? You’re kind of scaring me, do you want a hug?” Harry was now gesturing with his hands, his eyebrows furrowed together. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not okay! I’m really, really,” his breath caught, and he started to gasp, putting his face in his hands, letting his sleeves catch the tears. “I don’t want to go, please don’t make me go,” he begged, coming out in sobs, shoulders shaking.

“Okay, okay, do you want to go home? Should we go to the vet?”

“Yeah, go home,” the cat whimpered, curling up in his seat and moving to lean against the door. He couldn’t slow his breathing, though, continuing to gasp quickly. His mind was rushing, rushing, and he couldn’t focus anymore on the car starting to move again or things Harry was saying to him. He heard Harry talking, but all he could think of was that eventually, he’d have to suck it up and go in there by himself. Talk about getting hit, kicked, punched, dragged. Forced to treat his own wounds at home, had to try to reset his own broken finger after his owner slammed it in a door, left cuts untreated and scarred. All the times when he had really thought he was about to die, like just the other night, when he was so exhausted from fighting that he would lay on the ground and let whatever came to him happen because he couldn’t fight anymore-

A hand touched his back and he jumped, having forgotten where he was. But it snapped him out of it for a moment, and he registered Harry saying, “Here, baby, hold my hand. I know it makes you feel better.” It made Louis quieter for a moment, and he sniffled, before nodding and turning himself around. He took Harry’s hand and closed his eyes, setting his head back down against the seat. His breath slowed just a bit, but he was still gasping, still dripping tears on the seat. It did make him feel a little better to hold Harry’s hand though, something to bring him back to stability. It was something to remind him that he was somewhere better now, with a nicer person. Someone who would take care of him, and instead of getting more angry when he started to cry, Harry would hold his hand and make him feel better. Harry would call him baby, like a precious pet that he cared about and not just a burden that he would boss around to clean his house and beat the hell out of.

Apparently he’d been stuck in his own mind for a while, because not too much later, they were back at home. He heard the gate of the complex lifting to let them in, and he opened his eyes, looking up. His gasping had slowed down by then, and he was just sniffling to hold back the crying that was still washing over him. They were home, now, then, so he knew he could worry less. At home he’d be safe again, secure in Harry’s half-unpacked house that offered so much comfort for him.

When they pulled into the driveway, Louis sat up straight again, and let go of Harry’s hand to remove his seatbelt. And when the car was parked, Harry looked over at him, asking gently, “Are you okay? Do you feel better?”

Louis nodded, reaching his arm up to wipe tears off his face. “Yeah,” he stated simply, looking over at Harry. “Thanks for holding my hand.”

“No problem, just wanted to help you,” the other hummed, removing his own seatbelt. “Want to go inside and watch your show? We can order in some food, too.”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed again, turning around to open his door and step out. Harry went to the backseat after stepping out to get the shopping bags, then led the way inside. Unlocking the door to their home, the one Louis wanted to stay in forever, where he wasn’t scared, where Harry’s cat ran up to the door to greet them as soon as it was open. The cat ran to Harry first, but upon seeing the man’s arms were full, he turned to Louis, who promptly picked it up and carried the cat close to his chest.

Once they were inside, Harry shut the door, and set the bags down next to the sofa. “Here, get cozy and I’ll call in delivery. Is there anything you want?”

“I like the fish and chips you got,” Louis responded, going to the couch and settling down, still cradling the cat in his arms. 

Harry responded with a chuckle, and hummed, “Sounds good. Some classic comfort food, hm? You like it with the mayo or do you want something else?”

“Mayo is good.” Louis had set the cat down, and was then fluffing up his pillows and arranging his blanket so that when Harry came back they could both be comfortable.

After he heard Harry call in the order in the kitchen, followed by a call to the police station to reschedule the interview for the next day, the man returned, smiling when he saw how cozy the sofa looked. “Do you want to change into pajamas? I know you’re not going to want to sleep in jeans.” Louis gave him a nod, and got up, going to his shopping bags to look for something to wear.

“I didn’t get pajamas,” he hissed, realizing that was a bit of a mistake. With his space heater going and the central heating in the flat, it was too warm to wear his sweatpants.

“Just wear those boxer briefs you got. Those are like shorts,” Harry answered, while he went off to his bedroom.

Louis was hesitant, a little shy to just go around in underwear. But then again, so what? Otherwise he’d end up being too hot from sleeping in thick sweatpants. So he pushed off his nerves about it, and pulled out the plain black boxer briefs he had bought at the store. He took them with him to the bathroom, and changed into them, leaving the jeans in Harry’s hamper next to the sink. When he returned to the living room, he found Harry there, waiting on the sofa and already opening up Hulu on his laptop. As Louis got near, and was joining the other on the sofa, he noticed Harry was also wearing boxer briefs, and chuckled to himself. “You don’t have shorts to wear for bed?”

“I do, but I don’t want you to be embarrassed about not having any. This way we can both be matching, right?” Harry responded with a smile, practically making Louis melt.

“Right,” Louis laughed, right away curling up on the couch next to Harry. The night before, he had slept curled up on him. Even though it was a bit influenced from his wine drinking, he had no intentions to change that tonight. It was something unfamiliar to him, having a warm, cozy person to cuddle up to at night, but he liked it. So as he got up on the couch, he settled next to Harry and set his head on the other’s shoulder.

“Feel better now?” Harry asked him gently, moving his arm to hold it around the cat’s waist.

“Mhm… Sorry,” he murmured in response, sighing a little bit.

“Why are you sorry?” Harry questioned, looking down at the boy. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, you were scared. And it’s my fault, anyway. I should have told you before.”

Louis shrugged, “It’s okay. I feel better now, anyways.”

“Good, I’m glad. So, let’s just relax for now, have a good day off,” Harry said decidedly, clicking the selection on Hulu to continue watching Louis’ favorite show where they had left off the day before. He still held his arm around the cat’s waist, Louis’ head resting comfortably on his shoulder. 

The night carried on peacefully, much like the previous one. Mostly quiet, other than the ring of the doorbell when their food arrived, and Louis’ occasional interjections about something in the show. Besides while they were eating, they spent it cuddled up, the hybrid boy soothed by Harry’s rising and falling chest, the cologne on his shirt, the purr of the four-legged feline nestled next to his legs on the couch. Everything was about as nice as he could ever hope for.

With the sun setting behind the curtains of the back door, reflecting glowing orange over freshly fallen snow on the back porch, came another ring of the doorbell. Both boys perked up from their dreamy state at the sound, glancing towards the door, which soon followed up with three firm knocks and a woman's voice. “Redditch police, please open up,” she called.  
While Harry quizzically stood up, setting aside the laptop and starting to move towards the door, Louis’ keen ears focused on another voice he could hear outside the door. It was rough, a raspy smoker’s voice, a voice that had screamed to the point of a permanent rough tone. The words weren’t intelligible, but he knew who it was by the time Harry had started to reach for the doorknob.

“Harry!” He yelped, making the tall man stop and turn to look at him. The cat was already grasping his tail, tugging at it. “That’s my owner, don’t open it, please.”


End file.
